


Fox & Tiger

by Dangit



Category: One Piece
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sanji is a fox, Zoro is a tiger, they have animal's ears and tails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-03-25 20:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3823171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangit/pseuds/Dangit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanji doesn't think much will come out of his one-sided crush on the green-haired tiger. After all, he's only seen him a handful of times. At least, until they become roommates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in this fandom. I'm working on characterization, so if anything doesn't look right, please let me know. Also, this isn't beta'd, but I tried to keep any mistakes to the bare minimum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first fic in this fandom.

The first time Sanji sees him, he’s nine.

Zeff promises him to take him to the aquarium if he manages to bring his grade up in math, and Sanji works for months until his grade goes from a C-minus to a B-plus. The Rosetone Aquarium is not very big, but it takes good care of its marine life and has the famous underground tunnels that intersect the building and make it seem as if you can walk along with the swimming fishes.

Sanji gazes at a manta ray, listening to Zeff talk about how the 300 rows of skin-covered teeth in its lower jaw are actually useless, when a flash of green catches his eye.

He turns around, staring at the boy with green hair walking with an older man and a dark-haired girl, and find his hair to be pretty. It looks just like the marimo balls they saw up in the Japanese exhibit. His tail is long and slender, striped white and black and his ears are small, colored in the same way. The boy carries two wooden sticks with him and Sanji wants to ask him why.

Sanji watches him talk and laugh with the girl walking by his side until they round the corner and disappear from sight.

“Ready to see the sharks, eggplant?” Zeff asks, glancing down at him.

Sanji touches his head, at that moment wishing he could have cooler hair, then nods. “Yes.”

 

The second time Sanji sees him, he has been moved up to the job of a waiter in the Baratie. He’s thirteen now and his fur is starting to grow just a slight shade darker than his blonde hair. Zeff says that’s a sign of maturity, so Sanji keeps his tail brushed slick and his ears perked to draw attention to them.

He’s put in charge of delivering a birthday cake, and when he rounds the corner into the dining room, he immediately sees green hair. He looks down at the cake he’s carrying, wrinkling his nose a little bit when he sees the cursive _Happy Birthday Kuina_. He doubts Kuina is the boy’s name.

When he looks up, the boy is looking at him, and Sanji freezes for a moment until he realizes that the older man and the black-haired girl are also looking at him, probably waiting for the cake to arrive.

Sanji immediately quickens his pace and sets the cake in the middle of the table, smiling at the older man, which he knows realizes must be the boy’s father. They don’t look anything alike though. Must be because the older man is human.

“Happy Birthday, Kuina,” Sanji says, smiling at the black-haired girl who beams at him. He can feel the boy’s eyes on his back, but he’s afraid that he’ll do something embarrassing if he looks at him again. He’s blushing already, and that’s bad enough!

The girl, Kuina, beams. “Thank you! Dad, you didn’t have to do this,” she adds, but she’s smiling as she turns to her father.

“Of course I did. It’s your fifteenth birthday, sweetheart,” their father says.

With a start, Sanji realizes that he doesn’t need to be there anymore since he already delivered the cake. The boy’s gaze on his back is starting to feel uncomfortable, and he wants nothing more than to hide in the kitchen. Still, he’s been trained to be polite, so he smiles at their father as he offers his services.

“Is there anything else you will need, sir?”

“Not at the moment,” the man says, smiling. “Thank you.”

Sanji nods, turns around—making sure not to look at the boy even once—and hurries back to the kitchen.

“Eggplant, are you alright?” Zeff asks him, frowning from where he’s getting a steak ready.

“O-of course!” Sanji exclaims, blushing brightly. He touches his ear and takes a deep breath.

Maybe he’s still not as mature as Zeff.

 

Sanji is sixteen and he doesn’t have any friends. It’s hard to find a friend when you’re homeschooled and you’ve spent all your free time working in your father’s restaurant. Despite being solitary by nature, Zeff wants him to make friends— _why are you always in my kitchen, brat? Go out and hang out with kids your own age!—_ and gives him his first day off.

The only person he knows closest to his age is the dark-skinned human that lives in the apartment below his. He has a really long nose and wild curly hair, and he’s been asking Sanji to come out and play since they were nine. He’s two years younger than him, and Sanji is a little bit hesitant to go out with a kid that old still asking anyone to ‘come out and play’, but he is his only option.

It’s Sunday, and Usopp is super excited about introducing him to his friends.

“Don’t tell Luffy you know how to cook, or he’ll never stop asking you for food,” Usopp warns him as they walk towards the park.

“But I like feeding people,” Sanji says. He throws his finished cigarette on the ground and steps on it. He probably shouldn’t stink of smoke the first time he meets these people.

“Yeah, but Luffy doesn’t feed—he sort of just swallows,” Usopp says. “Trust me—just don’t do it.”

“Alright,” Sanji accedes easily. He can hear laughter the closer they get to the park, and once it comes into sight, he sees that is actually pretty crowded. He didn’t think kids actually went out to parks these days.

“We’re up at the courts. You know how to play basketball?” Usopp asks him.

“Yeah,” Sanji shrugs. He’s never actually played it, but Zeff sometimes watches it on TV when there’s nothing better to do. It doesn’t look that hard.

As they draw closer, Sanji can see about twelve other people milling around the courts. His heart stops in his chest when a distinct head full of green hair appears in his vision.

It’s that boy. He’s there, standing next to a shorter black-haired human that has a scar under his left eye. Sanji stumbles a little bit in shock, but he’s able to correct himself before Usopp notices.

Is Usopp friends with the boy? Will Sanji finally get to learn his name?

It’s pathetic, really, but Sanji hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him. It’s been seven years from their first meeting, and he’s only really seen him twice, yet he dreams about the boy regularly. They’re simple dreams: just the two of them sitting, eating ice cream. Or playing video games. Sometimes they lay on the ground, watching the stars.

They don’t ever talk, but that’s okay.

“Usopp!”

Sanji is startled out of his thoughts when a boy younger than Usopp, around twelve, runs up to them and looks up at the curly-haired boy with what looks like admiration in his wide brown eyes.

“Hey, Chopper,” Usopp smiles. “Are you going to play with us?”

The boy, who has the small antlers of a deer and brown-tipped fingers, shakes his head. “No. Nami says I’m too young.”

“Ah. Well, Nami knows best,” Usopp says, and he sounds a little nervous for some reason. “Oh, this is Sanji, Chopper.”

“Hi, Sanji!” Chopper exclaims, nodding at him. “Wow—are you a fox? I’ve never seen one before!”

“Y-yeah,” Sanji smiles. “I’ve never seen a deer before, either.”

“I’m not a deer! I’m a reindeer!” Chopper says defiantly. “My antlers are bigger, see?”

“Oh, sorry,” Sanji says. Shit, he’s already making a bad impression with Usopp’s friends. Fuck.

“C’mon, let’s go meet Nami,” Usopp says, and he nods to where two girls are sitting on one of the benches lining the basketball court.

The taller of the two girls has short, orange hair and she looks a bit younger than Sanji. The other girl’s hair is longer and a pretty blue color, and she looks a bit younger than Usopp, though not as young as Chopper. Maybe thirteen.

“Hey, Usopp. You’re late,” the orange-haired girl says, glancing at Sanji for just a moment before her eyes return to the long nose. She has tall ears, though not as long as Sanji’s, and a slender orange tail. Judging by the length of it, Sanji can guess she's a house cat. The blue-haired girl, though, has feathers growing from her temples and laid flat on her hair, as well as black scales that make a swirling pattern on her legs. Some sort of bird, maybe?

“Yeah, I was showing Sanji the way,” Usopp says, nodding to the fox. “This is my neighbor. Sanji, these are Nami and Vivi.”

“Nice to meet you, Sanji,” Vivi, the bird girl, says and smiles at him.

“So you’re the infamous Sanji,” Nami says, giving him a quick once over. “Usopp says your father owns a restaurant? Is it any good?”

“It’s amazing!” Sanji smiles. “We’re lucky to be really popular, if you wa—.”

He stops when something hits his leg and when he looks down, he sees a basketball.

“Sorry! Hey, can you throw it back?”

Sanji picks it up and looks back and sees that the  black-haired human is talking to him. There are two other teenagers with them, both older than Sanji. The green-haired boy is still talking to one of these boys, his back to Sanji, and he throws the ball with his eyes glued to the boy’s broad back—his mistake, since the ball travels in a wide arc, and even he can see that it will hit the feline hybrid.

“Hey! Look out—.”

Too late. The ball hits the boy in the back of the head, hard, and Sanji winces. The boy curses and turns around, his eyes immediately landing on Sanji.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” he shouts, and this is the first time Sanji has heard him speak. His voice breaks a little, which means it’s about to drop, but more importantly, _he’s speaking to Sanji_.

“Hey, are you fucking deaf?” the boy shouts again, and this time he grabs the ball and throws it back at Sanji. Sanji barely evades it, and it hits the ground by Usopp, who jumps and runs to hide behind Nami.

Sanji’s body feels the threat of a much large predator, and his ears move forward in aggression, his tail raised and bristled. When he opens his mouth, instead of an apology, his animal side yells, “It was a shitty accident, marimo! Your head is just too fucking big to avoid.”

“What the hell did you just call me?” the boy growls, stalking forward. His teeth are sharper than Sanji’s, his canines just a bit longer. “Who the fuck even are you, curly?”

Sanji growls at the name, but by now the boy is close enough that Sanji can scent him, and his instincts scream _danger_ at him. Suddenly, the boy’s striped tail makes sense, and just as two clawed hands grab hold of his shirt, he realizes that the boy is a fucking _tiger._

His instincts take over and his ears lay back flat on his head, his tail softens and lowers—but he doesn’t look away. Sanji Fucking Black doesn’t _cower_.

The tiger eyes Sanji’s ears, and grins wide, mocking. He’s _sneering_ and his sharp claws are tearing Sanji’s shirt.

The cook reacts automatically and raises a long leg to kick the boy off of him. The tiger doesn’t expect the attack, and Sanji manages to throw him back a couple of feet, flat on his back. However, before the tiger can get back on his feet and attack, Sanji turns around and walks away.

Shit, shit, shit!

His first time out trying to make friends, and he manages to make a fool of himself in front of the boy he likes. And isn’t it pathetic that he likes a boy he’s only ever seen twice (now three times), and only spoke to with once (again, it barely happened right now)? He hears Usopp calling him, but Sanji ignores him.

He can’t hang out with Usopp now, obviously. This is why he doesn’t do friends! Because he can’t control his own temper and often ends up making a fool of himself by saying things without thinking or acting too rashly. And now he’s gone and verbally abused his crush of seven-fucking-years! Ugh, his life is fucking over!

He slams the door open and ignores Zeff sitting on the couch.

“Eggplant? What’s wrong?”

“My life is over, that’s what!” Sanji yells back dramatically and slams the door to his bedroom close.

He’s never going out again

 

Two months later, Sanji walks into the dining floor of the Baratie, but as soon as he sees the familiar green hair, he turns around and walks back into the kitchen. Zeff yells at him, but when he refuses to go out no matter what, he finally yells at Patty to switch places with him for the day.

 

Three months after that, the elevator to his floor open, and he freezes when he sees the green-haired teen sitting on the floor in front of his door. His ears are lowered and his eyes are closed. Sanji hides behind a potted plant and watches the steady rise and fall of his chest.

What the hell is the marimo doing in his house? And how the fuck does he know where he lives? What does he want with Sanji? Sanji stays crouched behind the potted plant for what seems like hours, watching the sleeping tiger. Eventually, the elevator doors open again and Usopp walks out. Sanji watches him approach the tiger slowly, who immediately opens a dark green eye and fixes it on the human—huh, maybe not asleep.

“What are you doing, Zoro?”

“Huh? Didn’t you say to come to your house? Where the hell were you, long nose?”

“Home! Which is on the _fourth_ floor. This is fifth! Let’s go!”

Sanji freezes when the two teenagers—Usopp and _Zoro_ —walk his way. He’s sure the tiger is going to be able to smell him, but he doesn’t say anything as they get inside the elevator. As soon as the doors close, Sanji jumps out of his hiding place, wincing when his back complains for the awkward position he forced it into, and runs inside his house.

_Zoro_. Now he has a name to go with the face.

 

Five months pass and Sanji first rut comes. He’s late—most foxes have it during their fifteenth year, but Sanji is _seventeen_ —and he lives with an old man whose only insight into the matter was to tell him not to make a mess. The first day goes by normal. He locks himself in his room, even though Zeff promises not to show until Sanji calls him, and proceeds to jack off about seventeen times in the whole day.

The second day is torture. His dick is completely chafed and it hurts just to touch hit, but his instincts are screaming at him to cum, so he suffers through it.

On his third day, he decides to browse the internet for help while a frozen bag of peas soothe his abused penis. He reads, horrified and fascinated, as forums tell him that his rut may last anywhere from four to seven days. Sanji is probably unlucky enough to be one of the bastards with a seven-day rut. Some people advice to use plenty of lube, but Sanji is doing that already and his dick still feels like it’s going to fall off. Others state that it’s easier to go through a rut with a partner, since the scent of another person will soothe his hormones and calm his rut for a longer time. That’s not an option, so Sanji is forced to look into a third.

Prostate stimulation. The whole thing sounds embarrassing as hell, but it’s the only way he can make his body orgasm without touching his dick. He remains hesitant until he tries jacking off again and ends up crying instead of coming.

Buying toys turns out to be yet another horrifying experience that Sanji wishes never to repeat, but just as he thinks his life can’t get any worse, a tan hand stops the elevator doors from opening and then the whole room is invaded with the unmistakable stink of feline.

Sanji looks away before he can meet Zoro’s eyes, and stares at his feet. His tail tucks between his legs, his ears lay flat, the corner of his mouth pulls down, and he fights down the urge to get on his back and expose his stomach to the tiger.

Holy shit. Why is his body screaming at him to submit? He wraps his arms around the black bag—don’t think about the dildo, don’t think about the dildo—and turns his body just a bit away from Zoro. If the tiger were too look at his face right now and read the arousal—shit, his life would literally end.

The elevator dings and the doors open on the fourth floor—Zoro is out before the doors open the whole way.

Sanji learns many different ways to please himself in the next two days of his rut, and he tries to convince himself that the intensity of his orgasms have nothing to do with the scent of Zoro lingering on his clothes.

 

It’s his eighteen birthday and Zeff has been acting secretive all day. Sanji is giddy, thinking his father is finally going to name him Sous Chef. He’s been working his ass off for the title, and nobody but the old man spends as many hours in the restaurant as Sanji does. He lives and breathes cooking, and he even got his GED Diploma a year earlier to get more free hours for work.

He’s the best cook Zeff’s got, and he deserves the position more than anyone, and that’s why he’s completely sure that Zeff will surprise him with the news during his birthday dinner.

It’s just the two of them—neither Zeff nor Sanji have any friends—but neither the fox nor the human mind. Despite it being his birthday, Sanji offers to cook, wishing to impress the Head Chef with his cooking.

Zeff doesn’t praise the perfectly marinated steak, but he doesn’t insult it, either, which is always good in Sanji’s book.

“So…eggplant. When are you moving out?”

Sanji freezes, potato wedged in his fork midway through his mouth, and stares at his adoptive father. “Excuse me?”

“You've got your GED and you haven’t applied to any colleges,” Zeff says, continuing eating like there’s nothing wrong. “You know, deadlines are coming up.”

“I’m not going to college,” Sanji says slowly, putting his fork down. “I’m going to stay at the Baratie and work.”

Zeff makes a thoughtful noise. “Didn’t think you’d be the type to want to stay a line cook forever.”

“What?! I’m gonna be Sous Chef!” Sanji exclaims, angry. “What shitty game are you playing, old man?”

“Eh? You think I’m gonna hire a guy with a shitty GED as my Sous Chef?” Zeff snorts. “Like hell! You want the job, get a college degree!”

“You know I’m the best goddamn cook you have!” Sanji yells, getting to his feet and knocking his chair back. “You’re always doing this to me! Why the fuck won’t you admit I’m a good cook?!”

“Cause you’re fucking not!” Zeff snarls. “You think you’re good? Compared to who, huh? You’ve only been cooking for eight measly years, and your only competition is Patty and Carne! Take your so-called skill to the big world, and you’ll get laughed at! Your food is crap, and this stake is undercooked!”

“Don’t fucking eat it then!” Sanji yells and grabs the plate from him. “I’ll fucking take it to the dogs! See if they appreciate good food, you shitty old man!” He turns around and storms out, but hears Zeff call after him.

“Don’t kill the dogs now!” Zeff yells.

Sanji throws him the bird and slams the door close. Fuck, how dare that one-legged bastard insult Sanji’s food like that? He’s a good cook and Zeff knows this! Why the fuck is he being so difficult? Why doesn’t he want to give Sanji a chance? He’s worked so hard.

He doesn’t realize he’s in the roof until the cool air hits him. This is his favorite spot to come in the nights to smoke, especially after a particularly rough day. But he was in such a hurry to get out of the apartment that he forgot his cigarettes. Goddamn shitty old man.

Sanji sighs and sits down on the ledge, his feet dangling and the plate of food at his side. The building is thirteen stories high, so he’s pretty high up in the air. He loves looking down at the ground, though. Everything below him looks tiny and unimportant, and it makes him realize that there’s a lot more out there than his silly problems.

But this isn’t silly. This is his father not believing in him. This is Zeff continuing to stifle his talent.

“You’re gonna fall, curly.”

Sanji startles so bad that he almost slips off the ledge—a hand wrapping around his upper arm viciously is the only thing keeping him from plummeting thirteen stories into the ground.

“Didn’t picture you for a jumper, curly,” Zoro says, letting go of him once Sanji’s feet are both on the ground.

“I wasn’t going to jump, dumbass,” Sanji says, embarrassment making his tone of voice sound angrier than he expected. Just what he needs: his fucking crush witnessing a moment of weakness. He sits down on the ground, crossing his feet and resting his back on the ledge. He expects Zoro to leave him, but the tiger has climbed into an old, ratty sofa that some kids brought up to the roof a couple of years ago. The thing stinks since it’s been here for ages, through storms and boiling hot days—animals have probably defecated on it.

But Zoro stretches out comfortably, his tail curling around his hip and his ears straight up. He’s the picture of regal disinterest.

Sanji keeps his face downward, but he stares at the tiger from his peripheral vision. Such large predators are hard to find in hybrids. Tigers themselves are already extinct, and Zoro is the only large feline Sanji has ever seen in hybrid.. He knows Zeff met a lion hybrid once, but that’s about it.

Sanji knows that as a species, he’s also a rare one. Foxes are solitary by nature, contradictory and hard to live with. They mate for life, but it is extremely difficult for them to find a mate. So most of them remain single, which has in turn caused a downward spiral in their population. Not many people want foxes as their mates.

Tigers, however, are in opposite. Despite being highly territorial, tigers carry with them a sense of superiority and extreme confidence that attracts other animals like moths to a flame. Even completely still, they exude raw power and sensuality. Staring at Zoro right now, Sanji feels like he’s entered the tiger’s domain, and he feels oddly pleased to have been allowed to stay in the animal’s presence.

Which is totally stupid, because Sanji can do whatever he damn well pleases.

“What’s that?”

Sanji looks up and sees that Zoro is sniffing the air, his eyes locked on something behind Sanji. Grinning, he grabs the plate and holds it out for Zoro. “Steak. Wanna try it?”

Zoro stares at the plate and then reaches out for it. Sanji watches eagerly as Zoro stabs the meat with the fork, not bothering to cut out a piece, and chews off a large chunk of it. The cook makes a face at the crude manners, but doesn’t say anything.

See, Zoro likes his food. Everyone likes his food! It’s just that shitty cook being difficult, trying to make his life a living hell. The old man probably wants to send him off to college so Sanji will lose his standing in the Baratie. Or maybe he just wants him out of the house. Well, Sanji can get his own place, but that doesn’t mean he’ll leave the restaurant.

“So how is it, marimo?” Sanji asks, smirking. He wishes he had a cigarette right now, the nicotine would make the giddiness in his stomach feel a thousand times better. “Best staeak you’ve ever had in your life, am I right?”

Zoro sets the plate down on the floor, and Sanji frowns when he sees most of the steak is still there. What the hell? Why isn’t Zoro finishing his food?”

“Tastes like crap,” Zoro says, then he spits on the ground.

Sanji stares at him, eyes wide. Did he just—?

Is his food really that bad? But…he’s been working so hard. He spent years just watching Zeff, not allowed to touch anything more than a potato peeler, just so he could learn a scrap of what Zeff excels at. He knows, he fucking _knows_ with the bottom of his heart, that his food is good.

But apparently, not good enough for the shitty old man or the marimo.

“Drop dead,” Sanji snarls, jumping to his feet and rushing out of the roof before he can do something stupid like bite that stupid tiger’s head off. He storms down the stairs, too pissed off to wait in the elevators, and slams the door to his apartment complex open.

Zeff looks at him from the sofa, one eyebrow raised in question. “So?”

“I’ll start applying tomorrow,” Sanji snaps, and hurries to his bedroom.

He’d show them. Especially that bastard tiger.

 

Sanji gets accepted in _Le Cordon Bleu_ in Paris with a couple of scholarships to go along with it. Zeff offers to pay for his tuition, but Sanji has saved up enough money that he doesn’t need to ask the older chef for anything. When he leaves, only Zeff is there to say goodbye and the bastard doesn’t actually say it.

Paris is a lot different from Georgia. The people are much less reserved in France, and even though Sanji doubts he’ll find his mate there, he does find plenty of girls that are willing to spend the night with him just to see how it feels to be with a fox.

He only sleeps with humans, though. It’s much harder to make a bond with a human, since they don’t mate like hybrids. They don’t scent you, they don’t mark you—they just sleep with you. He does sleep with a rabbit hybrid once, but the girl ends up feeling shitty the next day and crying because apparently she already found her mate but the bastard won’t pay attention to her. Sanji ends up comforting her the whole day, all the while ignoring his own swirling, angry emotions.

He admits grudgingly that maybe Zeff was right to say that Sanji had never experienced the real world. _Le Cordon Bleu_ is teaching him so much more, expanding his horizons to limits he didn’t know existed. He quickly becomes one of the best students at the school, earning top marks in nearly all of his classes, especially the hand-on ones. He’s always been horrible at test-taking, but his teachers work around that.

But while Paris is beautiful and wonderful and the city of love, Sanji misses his Georgia. So when he turns twenty and his second year ends, his submits a request to transfer to the school’s department in Georgia. He easily gets accepted, all of his credits transfer through, as does his scholarship money.

He doesn’t want to return to Zeff’s place, so he requests to live in the dorms. He gets the good news about a month before classes start that a student dropped out and they were able to accommodate him in one of the rooms. He will have a roommate, but at least the place is more like a suite than an actual dorm room since they will both be third-years and as such get the better rooms.

He stays with Zeff for two weeks only because he _has_ to, then leaves to set up in his new dorm room. Classes won’t start until another two weeks, but Sanji much rather be wasting his time in here than back with Zeff.

Yes, he’s still a little mad at the cook. So what?

His roommate arrives three days after him, but Sanji only notices because when he enters the room, he sees the other room with the door open and a duffel bag on the bed. He waits a little to see if the guy will arrive soon so he can introduce himself, but after an hour of waiting, he decides to go out for some coffee.

When he returns the door is closed and he can hear soft music coming from the room. The music is not so loud that he will hear it from his own room, so he doesn’t bother the strange boy and heads to his own room. The next morning, he wakes up to the sound of a toilet flushing, but when he peeks outside, he only gets to see the door to his roommate room close.

He knows from personal experience that nothing good comes out of a bad relationship with your roommate, so Sanji takes a quick shower and decides to prepare breakfast for the both of them.

He has already finished a stack of buttermilk pancakes, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and is currently working on the eggs when he hears a door open. He smiles, knowing his food smells delicious and hums a little tuneless tune as he expertly flips his fried egg.

He hears muted footsteps approach the kitchen, and he moves to prepare to cups of coffee. He adds cream and one sugar to his but leaves the other black, not knowing what his roommate will like. He made fresh orange juice, just in case he doesn’t like coffee.

He grabs the two cups and turns to face his roommate with a bright smile. “I made break—.”

He stops, his mouth falling open as he stares at the equally surprised tiger in front of him.

“Curly?”

“Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made some few edits, mostly grammatical


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of things before we begin the second chapter if you may. First, I love reviews and I'm pretty good at taking criticism, even when strict. Just don't be rude, please. Second, this is an animal AU, where there are humans, hybrids, and animals. Both Zoro and Sanji are hybrids, and later on, when the rating changes to mature (even possibly explicit), there will be sexual content. I don't think that counts as bestiality, since both Zoro and Sanji are human and only have animal tails and ears. But I will mention it, just in case you don't want to read. There is a couple of other notes at the end, but I don't want to spoil anything. They're just extra notes on this universe, so you may skip them if you want. Again, thanks for reading and please review!

The first time Zoro sees him, he’s seven.

It’s Perona’s birthday, and even though she doesn’t know how old she is (she’s three, but no matter how much Zoro tells her, she never remembers), she knows that today she can do whatever she wants and their father won’t get mad (he does, but he’s really good at not showing it).

Zoro is a little upset because he’s Dad got him out of his swords class (his Dad insists that’s not what it’s called, but Zoro doesn’t care) to take him and his little sister to some fancy-smanchy restaurant. He’s definitely not pouting, and he’s definitely not being childish by giving his father the silent treatment.

“Zoro, today is a special day for your little sister,” Mihawk says, giving him one of those looks that make Zoro feel like a little kid—and he’s not! “Don’t tell me you don’t want to spend the day with her?”

“No, I want to go back to Kuina!” Zoro snaps, forgetting about his no-talking rule. “And Perona painted my kendo sticks pink! Kuina _laughed_!”

“Pink is pretty,” Perona says, then giggles. Her opinion on the color pink is further proven by the blank teddy bear drawing she’s coloring with said color.

“The color of your weapons doesn’t matter,” Mihawk says dismissively. “And once you’re able to defeat Kuina, you’ll have the privilege to laugh. Now, smile and be content.”

Zoro rolls his eyes. As if he can just choose his feelings on command. His plight is forgotten as his attention is grabbed by a blond man walking towards them. The man is human (Zoro used to get scared by humans, since he found it creepy how they didn’t have tails or ears, but Kuina doesn’t have a tail or ears and she hit Zoro when he said she was creepy), but what interests Zoro is his braided mustache and peg leg.

Perona is more interested in the large pink and brown cake the man sets in front of them. “For the birthday girl,” the man says with a gruff voice, but his eyes are kind when he looks at Perona. “How old are you?”

“Thwee!”

“Thank you,” Mihawk tells the blonde man. “I have heard many wonders about your food.”

“It’s just food,” the blonde man says, shrugging. “Enjoy.”

Zoro follows the man with his gaze, and his eyebrows raise in surprise when he sees a small kid (not much smaller than Zoro) open the large double doors the man is walking to. Zoro’s mouth falls open when he sees that the boy has gold for hair and the sky for eyes. His ears are large, larger than Zoro’s and pulled back. The blonde man kneels in front of the boy—Zoro has never seen ears like his—and murmurs something. The boy nods and holds his arms out for the man to pick him up. The blonde man does and carries the golden boy through the double doors.

“Zoro, aren’t you going to eat?” Mihawk asks, though his eyes are on his daughter and the terrible mess she has made with her piece of cake. That stain is _not_ going to come out easily.

“Dad, gold is expensive, right?” Zoro asks his father thoughtfully, picking at his own cake. Yuck, it’s _sweet._

Mihawk looks at him, surprised. “It has value. People enjoy it because of its beauty. Though there are things far more precious.”

“And can people steal the sky?”

Mihawk’s surprise rises. “No, Zoro. People cannot steal the sky.”

Zoro frowns. He doesn’t want the boy with the gold hair to get in trouble, so he decides not to tell his father about the boy who hides the sky in his eyes.

 

The second time Zoro sees him, he’s thirteen, and back at the Baratie. It’s Kuina's birthday and even though Zoro is still a little upset and nursing a bruised rib from their last fight, he’s happy he was invited to spend the day with his sensei and rival.

“Are you sure the food here is good?” Kuina asks him worriedly, looking around the fancy place. “It all looks weird.”

“It has the best food ever,” Zoro says firmly. “My Dad always buys carry-out from here, because he knows it’s my favorite. And Perona loves the chocolate cake here.”

“Ah, speaking of cake…”

Zoro glances at his sensei, and when he notices that his gaze is fixed on something behind him, he turns and gasps.

It’s that boy. The same one with the gold hair and sky-blue eyes. His ears are a shade darker now, but they’re still very pretty. They’re perked up, not like before, and his tail is so soft and _gleaming_ —Zoro’s tail never gleams.

The boy is looking down at the cake, but he looks up when he feels eyes on him. Zoro gasps again: the boy’s eyes are darker now, more like the ocean than the sky. The boy seems to realize that they’re looking at him because he hurries to them and sets the cake in the middle of the table.

“Happy birthday, Kuina,” the boy says and Zoro glares at Kuina. She knows him? Why didn’t she tell him?

“Thank you!” Kuina tells the boy, then turns to Koshiro. “Dad, you didn’t have to do this.”

“Of course I did. It’s your fifteen birthday, sweetheart,” Koshiro says, smiling.

Zoro tries to meet the boy’s eyes—well, eye since the other one is hidden behind his hair—but the boy is only looking at Kuina. What’s so important about her anyway? Maybe the boy has never seen a human—no, that blonde man from before was human. Does he like Kuina? But Kuina is so annoying! Why would anyone like her, especially this boy?

“Is there anything else you will need, sir?” the boy asks, still not looking at Zoro.

“Not at the moment,” Koshiro says, smiling. “Thank you.”

The boy nods and leaves yet he still won’t look at Zoro! Zoro follows the boy with his gaze, his eyes lingering on the honeyed tail. It’s so pretty.

“Ooh, Zoro has a _crush_!” Kuina squeals suddenly, and Zoro turns to look at her so fast his neck pops.

“I do _not_!” he exclaims hotly, feeling his cheeks turn red. “Shut up! You like Adam from the postal office!”

“What? Who told—I mean, I don’t—who would like—shut up!”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Koshiro interferes softly. “Let’s just all eat cake.”

Zoro mutters something unintelligible and winces when Kuina kicks his leg under the table. He glares at her, but she’s pretending to be enthralled by the cake.

“They were kissing behind the dumpster.”

“ _Zoro_!”

Zoro grins. It might cost him a couple more bruises, but it’s worth getting his rival flustered. Besides, she’s a liar. Zoro does _not_ like that boy.

 

The third time Zoro sees him, it’s only for a couple of minutes. It’s raining hard, and he’s cold, but he doesn’t care. The cold makes him feel dumb, and the rain hides his tears. He knows his father is looking for him; hell, _everyone_ is looking for him. But Zoro only wants to be alone. He doesn’t want to hear another apology, another _I’m sorry for your loss._

He doesn’t want to be reminded of what he has lost.

His eyes immediately see the blonde boy, and he moves before he thinks. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say, or even why he’s here. He just knows he wants to talk to him, to see those blue eyes. Will they look a different shade of blue again?

The boy stops in front of a table full of girls, and Zoro stops as well. He doesn’t want an audience for when he—he what? What is he going to do? Kuina would know what to do.

One of the girls says something, and she reaches up to touch the boy’s ears. Zoro growls and his tail stiffens. The boy blushes red, and he touches the other ear and says something. Whatever it is, it makes the girl laugh.

He has to separate them. That girl is too close. She’s touching him too much. Zoro has to separate them. But before he can move, the boy leans down and kisses the girl in the cheek, murmuring something in hear ear before he straightens up and walks away.

Zoro is out of the restaurant and back in the rain in a matter of seconds.

 _You lost again, Zoro. Always so weak_.

 

He’s sixteen and _very, very_ annoyed. His clothes feel itchy, and his nose is clogged with the scents all around the air. Everything sounds so fucking loud, and it’s so _fucking_ hot. Why does Luffy want to play basketball anyway? And with Law and Kid? Those two assholes always think they’re so much better because they’re _older_. Whatever, Kid is only three years older than him, and Law is the fucking loser hanging out with high school kids when he’s already in college.

Still, usually, Zoro has a better control on his temper. It’s one of the very first things his father taught him. _We are powerful creatures Zoro, so we must not let our emotions control us. To do so, is to give in to the animal within us. Remember, we are human before we are beast_.

He scratches at his ear trying to get rid of the annoying buzz he hears. God fucking damn it, why is it so fucking hot?!

“You don’t have enough players, so you can’t play,” Kid growls at him, and Zoro rolls his eyes.

“Just say you’re scared of playing against us,” Zoro snarls. “Luffy and I are enough to beat your stupid team.”

“Hey! Look out—.”

Too late. Zoro hears the voice, but his heat-addled brain does not respond in time. He hears the sound of air being cut, and then something hard hits him in the back of the head. Instantly, he turns around snarling, looking for the _idiot_ who would dare throw anything at him.

His eyes fall on familiar blonde hair and that one stupidly gorgeous eye. Immediately, the heat rises and Zoro feels his temper break.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” he shouts at the blonde, barely controlling the urge to jump on top of him and take a bite. He grabs the basketball and throws it back at the blonde. “Hey, are you fucking deaf?” he continues when the blonde doesn’t say anything. Fuck, the heat is _unbearable_.

The blonde jumps, almost as if startled, and Zoro’s anger increases when he sees the other creature—a fox, he now knows, _he’s a fox_ —take a stance of aggression. “It was a shitty accident, marimo! Your head is just too fucking big to avoid,” the fox snarls.

Zoro sees red. “What the hell did you just call me?” he growls, stalking forward. He can tell he’s being too aggressive, can smell the fear of the others. But that stupid fox is still challenging him, and Zoro has the strangest, almost over-powering need to see the fox bare his throat for him. “Who the fuck even are you, curly?”

The fox growls, but Zoro can see when his instincts take over. His ears lay back flat on his head, his tail softens and lowers—but the fox doesn’t look away. Why won’t he fucking _submit_?

Zoro grabs the other by the shirt, and he can feel his claws rip the shirt like butter. The fox is docile, but he’s still not baring his throat. Zoro smirks—he’s gonna enjoy mounting this fox.

Before he can make sense of the thought that just has crossed his mind, the fox moves. Zoro doesn’t expect to be kicked in the chest, least of all with the strength to send him flat on his back a couple of feet away. He’s stunned, and before he can get back on his feet, the fox turns and walks away.

Zoro feels a roar in his lungs getting ready to escape his mouth and force the fox on his knees, ready to be taken, ready and pliant for Zoro to— _shit, what am I thinking_.

“Zoro?” It’s Luffy, his voice confused.

“You need to call his father. Now!” Law yells.

“What’s wrong with him?” This one is Usopp, and for once, Zoro doesn’t mock the fear in his voice. Zoro is afraid too. _What is wrong with me_?

“He’s going into rut,” Law explains. “He sensed another predator in his territory, and it made him lose control. Kid, please step away, you might send him into another episode. Luffy, get his father here now. If he loses control again, none of us will be able to stop him.”

Zoro may not like Law, yet he knows better than to doubt his medical expertise. But what he’s saying doesn’t make sense. Zoro didn’t want to attack the blonde because he was a predator—he wanted to get him on his knees and— _don’t think about it_.

 

His rut lasts seven days. His father locks him in the dungeon—though it’s only a dungeon by name. In all actuality, it’s a bedroom, with a comfortable king-sized bed and sound-proof walls. Perona is not allowed to come anywhere near him. She might be his sister, and with time Zoro will learn how to discern her sent, but now she just smells like _prey_.

On the eight day, Zoro visits his father in his office. It’s late at night, and Zoro is only wearing a pair of loose sweatpants that don’t chafe his sensitive dick. Who would’ve thought there was such a thing as jerking off too much?

“Zoro, what are you doing awake?” his father asks him once Zoro makes his way inside the poorly-lit room. “You need to rest.”

“Father…I thought tigers didn’t go into rut,” Zoro says, glaring at the man who gave him false information.

His father sighs. “You’re still calling me father…you were much cuter when you called me Daddy.”

Zoro rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well, too bad. I’m not five anymore. And answer the question.”

“Sit down,” Mihawk says, nodding to the comfortable chair in front of his desk. He winces in sympathy when Zoro obeys, spreading his legs wide so that his legs won’t press against his sensitive member. “I guess I should explain myself a little more, huh? I just don’t want to think about you doing such acts…you’re far too young.”

“I’m sixteen, Father.”

Mihawk sighs. “Fine. Normally, we _don’t_ go into rut. We are capable of it, of course, but it is triggered by our mate’s. We don’t have a mating season, like most other creatures do.”

“But I went into rut,” Zoro frowns. “And I don’t have a mate. And besides, neither Vivi, Law, nor Chopper were in heat.”

“They don’t have to be in heat for your first time,” Mihawk explains. “If you are mated, you will have your first rut as soon as your body becomes ready for it just to make sure you’re able to. It’s a way for nature to make sure that all of the parts work, if you may.”

Zoro makes a face at the crude wording. He does not want to talk about his dick with his father or how well it works. “But I’m not mated.”

Mihawk stares at him, and Zoro begins to feel uncomfortable. He doesn’t know if there will come a day when he’s not intimidated by his father’s eyes. Probably when he defeats him and takes the title of World’s Best Swordsman from him, but that is still far away.

“Zoro…it is impossible for you to go into rut without being mated. Somehow, someway, you have decided that one of your companions is worthy to be your mate. That fox probably got to close to them, and it triggered your protective nature. That is why you wanted to fight him.”

Zoro frowns. He can’t have a mate. He’s _sixteen_ for god’s sake. And besides, the only possible mate candidates are Vivi, Chopper, and Law. They were the only prey present. Maybe Nami could be his mate, too, since her Somali breed is flexible and the closest to Zoro’s own species. He shudders at the thought of mating with Nami.

“Did you feel any type of possessive feelings towards any of your friends? Do you gravitate towards one of them more than the other? Did you feel the need to mate any of them?”

“No, I fucking didn’t think about fucking any of them!” Zoro yells, angry. Except—there were _those_ thoughts. But foxes aren’t _prey_. They might not be as strong as Zoro’s own species, but they are still predators. So why did Zoro spent his week-long rut imagining a pale body underneath his? Why did he want the fox to submit, to get on his knees and bare his throat?

“Father…I think there’s something wrong with me,” Zoro whispers, staring down at his hands. Hands that he had imagined to be slender as he gripped himself during his rut-induced delusions. “The f-fox…I had those thoughts, for the fox.”

Mihawk stares at his son, face impassive. A fox? He did not expect that. “Zoro, there is nothing wrong with you.”

“But he’s a _fox_!” Zoro yells, jumping to his feet. “A predator! I can’t mate with a fucking predator!”

“Zoro.”

His name is uttered with the same tone of voice his father always uses, but Zoro can feel the undercurrent of danger—a threat that still forces him to lower his eyes in submission, even after all these years. “Father.” Speaking when his father has commanded submission is the only way he has to challenge him. It’s little, but it is still more than most can manage in the presence of Mihawk Dracule.

“There is nothing wrong with you,” his father repeats. “It is true: mating between predators is unusual, but not unheard of. Do not forget, my son, that you are still human. And humans have no notion of predator and prey, least of all in their mating habits. This is your _mate_ Zoro, and you haven’t made the greatest of impressions. I suggest you start the courting process, if you still want a chance.”

Zoro stares at his father, mouth agape. Court a predator? Court the _fox_? Is he crazy? Zoro can’t be mated to a _fox!_

_But he’s strong. He kicked you off of him, something no one else could’ve done. And he is beautiful. You went to him, when Kuina died. You thought of him during your rut._

“Go back to bed, son. You still need your rest.”

“Yes, Father.”

 _You want him_.

 

Zoro spends more time than he would care to admit thinking of how to approach the fox again. His chance comes when Usopp—insisting that Zoro apologize to his friend, _Sanji_ —drags him to the Baratie. Apparently, Sanji is the adopted son of the chef with the braided mustache, who also happens to be the owner of the restaurant.

Zoro sits between Chopper and Vivi, hoping their calming scents will help him ground himself, but it is to not avail. He sees the blonde fox exit the kitchen, take one look at him, and go back inside. They spend two hours in that restaurant, and no matter how many times Usopp asks the other waiters for Sanji, the fox never comes back out.

 

People say that he has a bad sense of direction, but Zoro knows that the buildings move. It’s just that he has never caught them in the act. It’s not his fault at all. And besides, most of the time, his nose leads him on the right track.

And this time, it has led him on the perfect track. He’s in Usopp’s building, he can smell Nami’s citrus scent, partnered with Chopper’s slightly sweeter one. There’s Luffy, who smells like meat, but not in the good way, and Usopp, who smells like fear and gunpowder. He can also smell Vivi, her woodsy scent the most appetizing out of all of them.

At least, until the new scent hits him. The smell of nicotine and spice, with the slight hint of seafood. It makes his mouth water and his brain stutter, but most of all, it soothes his senses. He follows it to a closed door, and when he knocks and no one answers, he sits down in front of it and takes the scent in.

He loses track of time, but his mind slowly settles as the smell of gunpowder interrupts the first scent. Such a pity. He opens one eye and fixes it on Usopp.

“What are you doing, Zoro?” his friend asks.

“Huh? Didn’t you say to come to your house? Where the hell where you, long nose?” he snaps, knowing full well that this isn’t Usopp’s house. He can smell his scent from somewhere down below, but not in the apartment behind the closed door.

“Home! Which is on the _fourth_ floor. This is fifth! Let’s go!”

Zoro rolls his eyes but follows the long nose. That wonderful scent assaults his senses as he gets closer to the elevator, and from his peripheral vision, he catches something gold.

_He’s hiding._

Zoro swallows and lets the elevator doors close behind him.

“You know, that was Sanji’s apartment.”

Zoro doesn’t look at Usopp. “I know.”

 

For some reason Zoro doesn’t understand, he wants to spend all of his time at Usopp’s place. The others don’t mind, since Usopp is the only one with a DVD Player, but it bothers Zoro. Usually, he doesn’t like spending too much time in this apartment complex. The more time he spends here, the more likely he’ll meet the fox again.

His mate. His mate…who is afraid of him.

“You know, if you just apologize, I’m sure he’ll give you a chance,” Nami says, throwing him a piece of jerky.

Zoro leans back a little to be able to catch hit with his mouth, and glares at her. “I’m sure he’s eager to forgive the guy who molested him in public then kept him out of his apartment for hours because I was too busy smelling his door!”

Vivi giggles, but tries to hide it when Zoro glares at her. “Sorry, Zoro. I just can’t believe you actually spent _two_ hours outside of his apartment, _sniffing_.”

“You know, I’ve been doing a little bit of research about this,” Chopper says, looking up at Zoro. Zoro looks down, his nose almost touching Chopper’s, since the boy is sitting on his lap. He’s the only one allowed to treat Zoro like a pillow, mostly because Zoro can’t say no to such an adorable face.

“About what?” Zoro asks, curiously glancing at the textbook on Chopper’s lap. Gibberish.

“Well, about you mating another predator,” Chopper explains. “Considering the fact that your species is almost extinct, it would make sense for you to pick a female prey, since they’re the ones with the highest chance of getting pregnant with your children. Something strong, like a deer or gazelle, would work the best. Even another feline, despite being predators, would’ve worked. But since you are human, you take other accounts when looking for a mate, such as compatibility.”

“So Zoro and Sanji are compatible?” Usopp wonders, giving up the fight against Luffy for the last slice of pizza. “But how could Zoro know that? They have never even talked!”

“It’s love at first sight!” Nami exclaims, bursting into laughter when Zoro glares at her. “Aw, Zoro, don’t be like that. We all had to spend _years_ listening to you sigh about the gold-haired boy that worked at the Baratie.”

“Yeah, man. It’s the only reason why I started talking to him,” Usopp adds, smirking. “You pick them well, Zoro. Sanji’s hot.”

Zoro snarls, and Usopp falls out of his chair in fear. “Keep your eyes to yourself, long nose.”

“I think it’s more than that,” Chopper cuts in, patting Zoro’s arm absentmindedly. It works, and Zoro is able to calm down. “It’s true that Zoro, as a tiger, is bound to be conceited and temperamental. But if you look at his father, his personality is totally different from Zoro’s. If Zoro had been born a human, he would still be stubborn, arrogant, aggressive, blunt—.”

“Wow, Chopper, tell me how you really feel,” Zoro mutters.

“Shishishi, that’s totally Zoro!” Luffy laughs. “And stupid!”

“Oi, I don’t want to hear that from you, asshole!”

“The point _is_ ,” Chopper interrupts before the argument can escalate. “Zoro would not have been happy with a prey hybrid. They would be too submissive for his liking. A predator, however—.”

“Would be a challenge,” Nami cuts in, grinning.

Zoro frowns. It’s true that he doesn’t like weak-minded people. Even Usopp, behind his cowardice, hides a backbone. It is a very small backbone, but it’s still there. But the way Chopper and Nami speak…it makes it sound like Zoro is looking forward to forcing Sanji to—no, it’s better not to think about it.

But that’s not the point. It might sound strange, considering the fact that Zoro has only spoken to the blonde once, but he _likes_ Sanji. He likes his scent, the color of his eyes, his smoky voice—he even likes the pretty amazing way he kicked Zoro, because those legs carry power and just thinking about them, wrapped around Zoro, makes him feel things that—that are better left alone, especially with Chopper sitting on his lap.

Maybe Nami is right; he should just clear any misunderstandings between himself and Sanji. They could start off as friends, and hopefully, later, it can become something more.

He already knows where Sanji lives, but he doesn’t want to knock on his door—he doesn’t want to admit that he knew Sanji was hiding from him all those months ago. That’s why, when he catches sight of Sanji entering the elevators in Usopp’s apartment, Zoro rushes forward before the doors can close.

Instantly, his senses flat-line as the smell of nicotine and spices flood his nose. He stares at Sanji, but the fox isn’t meeting his eyes. In fact, his whole body is angled away from Zoro. His tail is tucked between his legs, his ears lay flat, and his mouth is pull down—it’s not submission, is fear.

Sanji is in rut.

Zoro almost chokes on air, but he can’t breathe. He holds his breath, trying to clear his mind off the seriously amazing scent. His nails dig into the palm of his hands, and he can feel them break skin as his body yells at him to take Sanji. It doesn’t matter if they’re in a fucking elevator, he just wants to push the fox to his knees, pull his pants down, and enter him. He closes his eyes, and he can almost see it: Sanji would beg for more, he would spread his legs wide for Zoro and show his neck. His body would welcome the tiger’s, and he would let Zoro mark his pale skin, crying out for more—shit, he can almost _feel_ it.

Sanji is so close, Zoro just has to reach out—it’s just a couple of feet, he can do it, he can take him. Sanji would welcome it; he _stinks_ of need, of sweat and cum, of dissatisfaction.

Sanji’s arms wrap around his bag tightly, and he turns away. Zoro is so close to touching him, but the elevator doors open, and just the barest whiff of clean air is enough for him to force his body to flee. He doesn’t stop running, taking the stairs back downstairs. His whole body is screaming at him to go back to his mate, to satisfy his mate— _why the fuck are you running when your mate is so ready for you?!_

But he keeps running, because Sanji isn’t ready. He’s afraid.

 

He hasn’t seen Sanji in a year. He makes sure to takes the stairs from now on—he never wants to be caught in a situation like last December’s again. The others have stopped trying to figure out ways to get him back to Sanji. Zoro doesn’t want to. He was never _with_ Sanji in the first place.

Still, some part of him, maybe the animalistic part that his father insist Zoro control better, likes to be close to the fox. So he visits Usopp more than necessary. Like today—except today the long nose forgot to inform him that he and Kaya would be…uh, taking care of Kaya’s heat.

Ugh, just thinking about it makes him shudder.

And the smell of Kaya in heat makes him feel _things_. It doesn’t make him go into rut like Sanji’s does—he doubts he will ever be able to find anything that makes him lose control as easily as Sanji does—but it does make heat pool in his belly.

He decides to head to the roof to clear his mind. The couch Luffy and Usopp brought up here a couple of years ago is still there, relatively clean thanks to Nami and Vivi’s efforts. They’re the ones who clean it regularly.

His eyes are closed and his body is lax in meditation when the scent of nicotine hits his nose. Slowly, he opens one eye and stares at Sanji. His heart stops as he takes in the desolate imagine: Sanji sitting on the ledge, his blue eyes stormy and wet as he looks down with an undiscernible expression on his face.

Zoro gets to his feet slowly, quietly, and takes a couple of steps forward before he speaks. “You’re gonna fall, curly.”

Sanji startles, and Zoro’s heart touches his throat as he moves forward, his arm wrapping painfully tight around Sanji’s bicep before the blonde can fall to his death.

“Didn’t picture you for a jumper, curly,” Zoro says, letting go of him once Sanji’s feet are both on the ground. It costs him, but Sanji is trembling, and Zoro doesn’t want to make him worse.

“I wasn’t going to jump, dumbass,” Sanji growls. He walks away from Zoro and takes a seat on the floor.

Slowly, making sure not to make any sudden movements, he takes his place back on the sofa and closes his eyes. His ears are perked, though, listening for the slightest noise. He wants to ask Sanji what’s wrong, what made him come up here. He wants to touch Sanji, to make him stop shaking, to wipe away that look from his face that makes the blue of his eyes dark.

But he can’t. So he settles for the next best thing and speaks.

“What’s that?” he asks, scenting something delicious in the air. Not as delicious as Sanji, but good in a different way. He opens his eyes and locks on the plate behind the cook. Food?

Sanji looks up and follows Zoro’s gaze before he smiles. He grabs the plate and holds it out for Zoro. “Steak. Wanna try it?”

Zoro stares at the plate, his eyes momentarily stopping on Sanji’s hands. They are firm, unlike the rest of his body. He grabs the plate and takes a piece of it.

Holy shit, this thing is good. No, it’s not good. It’s the best fucking thing since sliced bread. He swallows a moan and takes another bite eagerly. Did Sanji cook this? It’s so _good_. Oh god, if Zoro could eat like this every day.

Can Sanji get any more perfect?

 “So how is it, marimo?” Sanji asks, his words bringing him back from Nirvana. “Best stake you’ve ever had in your life, am I right?”

Zoro freezes for a moment. What the hell is he doing? He can’t—shit, he can’t stay too long with Sanji. Especially since he came up here to try and get away from the odd sensations Kaya’s heat made him feel. Already, Sanji’s scent has made him drop his guard. He needs to stay away from Sanji, because no matter how much Zoro just wants to admit that the food in his mouth is heavenly, he can’t be friends with Sanji.

He can’t never _only_ be friends with Sanji.

“Tastes like crap,” Zoro says and forces himself to spit on the ground.

Zoro can see the hurt in Sanji’s eyes. There is something, an inner turmoil of sorts, fighting inside Sanji and Zoro’s words seem to feed it. He forces himself to keep staring Sanji in the eye, until the fox breaks.

“Drop dead,” Sanji snarls, his voice full of hurt and sincerity, and Zoro’s heart aches as he watches the fox walk away.

He waits until he can’t hear the fox anymore and grabs the discarded plate. It really is the best thing he’s ever tasted.

 

Usopp tells him Sanji quit the Baratie and left the States. Zoro pretends he doesn’t care, but that night is the first time he gets drunk.

Luffy is there to pick up the pieces. He’s the only one Zoro will allow next to him. It takes him a couple of weeks, but he gets past it. After all, Zoro Roronoa is not one for self-pitying, even at the loss of his mate. But despite his self-assurance that everything is fine, his friends know better.

Especially Luffy. Zoro knows his friend doesn’t like it when Zoro goes down to the docks and participates in the rabid fights: underground, illegal fights when you fight other hybrids, pumped so full of steroids and drugs that they have lost their humanity.

It’s the only thing that can keep him from spiraling out of control, though. He needs to fight, needs to train. He promised Kuina that he would become the greatest swordsman in the world, at that time not knowing that his own father holds the title. He had gone lax on that promise with Sanji on his mind, but now that the fox is gone, Zoro can concentrate again.

The first fight he loses is against his own father.

He doesn’t know who is the one that told him about Zoro’s nightly excursions, but when Zoro enters the ring and sees his father and Yoru, he doesn’t run away.

He gains knew respect for his father that night. Because when they fight, it’s not a battle of son versus father. They’re just two swordsmen: one a master, the other a child that bit more than he could chew. Zoro has no chance of defeating his father, and when he receives the strike that cuts him in half, he can’t help but smile. Is this the man that spent a day in the sewers looking for Perona’s favorite teddy bear?

He survives the slash. His father didn’t want to kill him, after all. Zoro makes sure to wear shirts at all times in front of his father from then on, hating the pain that flashes behind those yellow eyes when he’s reminded of the wound he inflicted on his own son.

His friends—sans Luffy—think that’s gonna be the end of it. Luffy and Zoro know better, and when they get involved with Crocodile and his gang, they know they’re putting their lives at risk. Zoro doesn’t complain when he gets kidnapped—he did not get lost going home, no matter what Luffy says—instead, he tries to cut off his feet, as those are the only things that were handcuffed to the wall. Luffy arrives just in time, and Zoro is glad he didn’t get to cut off his feet, mostly because Chopper is pissed enough with what he did get to cut.

His father offers to train him when he turns nineteen, but only if he promises to go to college. Zoro knows he won’t get an offer like this ever again, so he readily accepts. Nami helps him pick a course—kinesiology—and Chopper helps him study. With his father’s offer as incentive, and Chopper backing him up, Zoro easily gets accepted.

College is not that bad, actually. His roommate is an asshole, but Zoro just ignores him. The man is also a coward, but he’s not so stupid as to anger Zoro to the point of violence. It helps that his father’s lessons focus deeply inmeditation, something that he takes to rather easily ever since Koshiro taught it to him and Kuina.

His twentieth birthday comes with a wonderful present: another fight with his father. He loses, but when before it took two minutes for Mihawk to utterly destroy him, this fight takes thirty. Zoro loses an eye, but Mihawk gains a couple of scars himself.

His friends don’t understand how it’s possible for his father to harm him and Zoro not care, but that’s okay. Because Zoro knows that when he fights, he’s not facing his father. He’s facing the greatest swordsman in the world, and that makes all the difference in the world.

The one good thing that comes out of his missing eye is that when he returns to school for the second semester, his roommate drops out in fear that he’s living with a gangster. And because he only has four more months in the semester, his RA decides to let him live alone in the empty apartment. Zoro enjoys his freedom, and the quiet helps him train his new lack of depth perception.

During summer vacation, he gets a call letting him know that a new roommate was assigned to him, some transfer student from France. Zoro doesn’t really care, but if the guy only speaks French, then that means he won’t bother Zoro.

When he arrives, the apartment is empty and his new roommate has set up in the room his last roommate vacated. He can detect the barest hint of nicotine, and he groans when he thinks his roommate could be a smoker. He only hopes the other man’s natural scent is stronger, because he doesn’t want to be reminded of Sanji while living here. He dumps his duffel on the bed and leaves, going to Luffy and Usopp’s place to play some video games. When he returns, it’s dark but his roommate is still not back. Zoro stops by the other man’s room, but the smell of cigarettes is stronger there. Zoro returns to his own room, turns his music on high, and jerks off to the thought of Sanji.

It’s not the first time he has done so, and he doubts it will be the last.

When he wakes up, the smell of sizzling sausage catches his attention, and he stumbles out of bed towards the kitchen. If his new roommate is a cook, they’re going to become friends.

He yawns and rubs at his heavy eyes, hoping the other man made coffee for him, too. If he did, they’ll become _great_ friends. He opens his eyes and his world stops as they land on an impossibly soft tail and ears the color of honey.

His new roommate turns around, a bright smile in place as he begins his greeting. “I made break—.”

Sanji stops, staring at Zoro as if he has seen a ghost.

“Curly?”

“Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so a couple of times I talk about prey and predator. In this AU, prey are submissive or 'the bottom' if you may. There is no mpreg in this fic, so you don't have to worry about that. Mating is mostly controlled by the animal side of a hybrid, and it's similar to finding your soulmate. Not everyone finds their mate, but that's okay. Most of the time, mating happens between prey and predator, and even though sexual relationships between people of the same sex are not frowned upon in this world, prey x prey or predator x predator relationships are. That's why Zoro is so worried. Basically, predator x predator relationships are equivalent to homosexual relationships in our society: there is nothing wrong with them, but some idiotic people still don't like them. I think that's all I have to explain...if you think of anything, please let me know and I'll be more than glad to answer!


	3. Chapter 3

Sanji can’t believe it. He literally has the worst luck in the world.  Not only does he manages to get paired with the one person he never wants to see again, but Zoro somehow managed to get hotter these past two years.

How in the hell is that even possible? But there he is, in all of his tan, muscular glory. Zoro has always had an athletic body, even when they were younger. But now, standing there only in a pair of basketball shorts, Sanji can see that Zoro is _ripped_. Every muscle is perfectly cut and accentuated, shifting under his skin as he breathes. His shoulders are wide, his hips narrow, and his tan skin shines with a golden sheen. Even the gnarled scar that cuts his body from left shoulder to the opposite hip doesn’t take away from his attractiveness. It’s the same with his face: Zoro has lost the roundness he had when he was younger, shedding his baby fat to reveal a sharp jaw, wide forehead, and straight nose. His green hair is longer, slicked back, and three golden ears dangle from his left ear. A long scar renders his left eye useless, but just like with his body, the scar does nothing to diminish Zoro’s appeal. He has a lot more scars, but the only ones that look as bad as the ones on his face and chest, are two identical scars that wrap around his lower shins, almost as if someone had tried to cut his feet off.

“Is that for me?”

Sanji jumps, startled by Zoro’s voice. It takes him a moment to realize that Zoro is talking about his coffee cup. He nods and hands it over, watching curiously as Zoro takes a small sip. “Ah, it’s black,” Sanji says, noticing the small frown on Zoro’s forehead. “I didn’t know how you liked it.”

“Black is fine,” Zoro says, surprisingly, and his brow smooths. “Did you make breakfast?”

Sanji is unnerved by the polite conversation, but…well, he and Zoro have only ever spoken twice, and both times they had traded insults. But they’re more mature now, and maybe this mild-manner conversation is Zoro’s way of extending an olive branch.

“Yes,” Sanji answers, setting his own cup down on the small table they’re going to have to share from now on. “I know how important it is for roommates to get along, so I thought I could make them as a sign of good faith. Or you know, whatever.” Sanji turns to face the stove, hiding his face from Zoro. Shit, what is he supposed to talk about? Everything is so _awkward_.

“It smells really good.”

Sanji glances at Zoro over his shoulder. The tiger is sitting down on the table, drinking his cup of coffee and lost in thought. He looks just like that time on the roof: aloof and uninterested. Sanji faces away again and prepares two plates, making sure they look as appetizing as they smell. He adds a couple of extra sausages for Zoro and puts more roasted tomatoes on his plate. He grabs the two plates and balances them on one hand, and grabs the coffee pot with the other.

“More coffee?” Sanji asks, setting both plates on the table.

Zoro leans back and nods, holding his cup out for Sanji to pour. “Thanks.”

Sanji only nods and sits down. He can feel the awkwardness in the room; it’s so thick, he could take his butter knife and cut it. Sanji tries not to stare too much, but it’s kind of hard when Zoro is eating with the same manners as an animal. Still, the tiger offered an olive branch and it would be stupid to yell at him and ruin it just because of the way he eats.

Sanji growls softly and hides his face by sipping his coffee. Who the fuck taught this tiger manners? Sanji tries to control himself, he really does, but when Zoro takes a bite of his sausage, frowns, and then proceeds to dump it in the gravy bowl and pick it back out with his fingers, Sanji breaks.

“Holy fucking shit, moss head, what the fuck is wrong with you?!” Sanji yells, smacking his hand away from the gravy. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Zoro glares at him, chewing angrily. Can one even chew angrily? Zoro is certainly doing it. “Eh? I’m getting gravy on my sausage, curly.”

“No, you shit head!” Sanji yells. “You’re supposed to _pour_ the gravy!”

Zoro gives him an unimpressed glare. “Isn’t it the same thing?”

“There’s a shitty difference between getting sausage on the gravy and getting gravy on your sausage!”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” Zoro growls, and stuffs his mouth with bacon. “Just shut the fuck up.”

“You’re the one eating my food, marimo. If you want to keep eating, you better learn some fucking manners,” Sanji snarls.

“This is shit food,” Zoro says, but he takes another bite of bacon and grins at Sanji.

It takes him a moment, but he realizes that Zoro is joking with him. _He likes it_. Sanji stares dumbly as the tiger keeps eating, licking his fingers and lips as if afraid of missing anything. _Was he joking the last time, too_? Sanji growls in annoyance. This fucking tiger is the most annoying person he has had the displeasure of meeting.

“You’re an ass,” Sanji snaps, returning to his own food.

“And you fish for compliments. If you already know your food is great, why ask?” Zoro shrugs.

Sanji looks up at the tiger, frowning. “Usually, I’m satisfied when people finish the meal I prepared. But when they spit out, the message is pretty clear, don’t you think?”

To his surprise, Zoro hesitates and looks away guiltily. “I, uh…sorry about that. I was in a bad mood, and I took it out on you. I did finish the steak though. It was…pretty good.”

Sanji looks away, feeling his heart thump loudly. This is not good. “That’s okay. I kind of never thanked you for saving my life—even if it was you who startled me and almost made me fall.”

“You were the idiot sitting on the ledge,” Zoro snaps, back to his usual self. “And it’s your own fault for not noticing me. I was _right there_.”

“Ugh, whatever, marimo,” Sanji sighs. “Let’s just drop it and start over. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to spend the next two years fighting with you. I don’t want to get expelled for killing an endangered species.”

Zoro smiles, showing off his sharp teeth. “As if you could, shit cook.”

“Just eat your disgusting sausage, moss head,” Sanji says, dropping out of the argument. Zoro shrugs and returns to his food, eating enthusiastically. Sanji runs his index finger around the rim of his coffee cup, watching the tiger.

Maybe, this isn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened.

 

"I need to change rooms.”

Nami looks up from her textbook, arching an eyebrow as Zoro enters her room and flops down on the couch. He looks anxious, an emotion she’s not used to seeing in the usual stoic man. Her roommate, Kaya, glances at Zoro then raises an eyebrow at Nami. She’s clearly thinking the same thing.

“And why are you telling me?” Nami asks, returning to her book. Unless it’s about money, she has no need to pry into Zoro’s business.

“You have your grubby little hands in every department of this school. Don’t tell me you can’t make that happen,” Zoro snaps, glaring at her. Asking favors from Nami is dangerous—and expensive—business, but he has no other choice. Zoro knows his control is admirable, but Sanji has always been his Achilles’ heel.

“I can. But it’s gonna cost you,” Nami shrugs, still not very interested. At least, until Zoro speaks again.

“Fine. How much?”

She looks up, frowning. Zoro has never parted with his money that easily. It’s not that he needs it, or that he’s particularly attached to it—after all, Zoro comes from old money and it’s not lacking in that department—but he usually puts up more of a fight than this. Most of the time, it’s to annoy her. Actually, all of the time it’s to annoy her. That Zoro is willing to swallow his pride and ask for help, not to mention the fact that he won’t even make one disparaging comment, is the incentive Nami needs to start meddling.

Zoro inaudibly groans when Nami puts her book down. That does not mean good news for him.

“Why do you want to change rooms?”

Zoro shrugs and looks away. He knows Nami will get the information out of him, but he won’t make it that easy. His pride won’t take the blow. “Why do you care? You’re getting paid either way.”

“My dear Zoro, you have never been good at negotiating, have you?” Nami asks, her voice patronizing. “The fact alone that is _you_ who is asking to move—instead of, say, scaring the unfortunate bastard paired to you away—is enough to warrant my curiosity. Now, let’s say this guy is annoying: the fee to get him away won’t be that high. After all, if I name a price that you don’t like, you can always choose to just put up with him. But if this guy is more than that—an old enemy, an old friend, someone you can’t stand seeing day after day—then, my friend, the fee can become much higher. Do you understand my position?”

“I understand you’re a bitch,” Zoro growls.

“Don’t make me take away the family and friends discount.”

“You have such a thing?!”

Nami doesn’t reply. Instead, she taps her nails on the hard cover of her book, staring at Zoro with an unimpressed gaze that tells the swordsman that she knows he’s gonna put out and she’s not keen on waiting. It is an expression Zoro is used to, unfortunately.

Kaya suppresses a smile and takes a sip of her tea. She does enjoy the control Nami has over her friends. She wonders if she can perhaps learn a bit of it herself. It can turn out to be quite useful, especially since her intended target has nowhere near the strength of will Zoro possesses.

“My roommate is Sanji,” Zoro spits out. “I can’t…I can’t have him around, Nami.”

Nami hides her surprise well. Despite their arguments and animosity, she considers Zoro to be one of her closest friends. She would give her life for the tiger and knows very well that Zoro would extend the same courtesy to her. She does not enjoy seeing him in pain, at least not when she’s not the one inflicting said pain. And she’s well aware of the problems between Zoro and Sanji. She has yet to meet her own intended mate—she doubts she ever will—so she can’t understand how Zoro feels.

But when the tiger looks at her, his one reminding eye pleading, she remembers his suffering. His scars are proof of that. She wonders if Zoro remembers that time of his life like she does: is Zoro aware of the fear his friends felt every time they watch him get cut down? Does he know of the scent of sadness, of the utterly defeated glint in his eye that until moments ago was as much a part of Zoro as his green hair? She can’t honestly think of anything worse for Zoro than being away from Sanji again. But if they stay together, if Zoro does indeed snap and hurt Sanji—will that be worse? But what if Zoro doesn’t? What if the two stay together, what if this coincidental closeness is the push Zoro needs to make his move and claim his mate?

It’s a gamble. The stakes have never been higher, but then again, Nami has never lost.

“Too bad. I can’t help you,” Nami says. She opens her book and hides her eyes on the printed paragraphs as she feels Zoro’s gaze on her. She can smell his surprise. There’s a hint of hurt in there, and the longer the silence last, the stronger the scent of betrayal gets.

“Nami, this isn’t a joke,” Zoro tries again. “I really need this. I’m asking you, as a friend.”

“No, can’t do, kitten.”

“W-why?”

“Don’t feel like it,” Nami shrugs. She’s sure not to meet Zoro’s gaze. This would be a lot easier if she were sure of her decision. But she only knows Zoro’s side of things—what if the tiger is right? What if Sanji really _is_ afraid of him? Well, if that’s the case, she’s sure Sanji himself will seek a room transfer. If not—well, she’s already rolled the dice, she can’t back out now.

“Thanks for nothing, Nami,” Zoro growls, startling her. “You know, I had you read all wrong.”

Nami looks up and bites her lip as she watches the tiger stalk out of her dorm room. He slams the door shut behind him hard enough that the doorknob shakes and loosens.

“Nami, what are you doing?” Kaya murmurs.

“I’m placing my bets,” Nami replies, returning to her book once more. _I only hope the odds are on my side._

 

Any hope that had blossomed in Sanji at the sight of the tiger quickly disappears as he’s made of aware of the fact that Zoro is avoiding him. It’s not easy to live with somebody and not see him once, which clues him in to the effort Zoro is putting to not talk to him. The nail is only deeper hammered when Sanji runs into the green-haired tiger at the Merry Go Coffee shop, and the tiger immediately leaves without his order—despite already having paid.

“You Ex?” the pretty barista asks, giving Sanji an understanding gaze.

“No,” Sanji replies, smiling despite his curt answer. The girl takes the hint and quickly prepares his drink. Sanji leaves a bigger tip than usual for his rudeness. His coffee is slightly bitter, despite the three spoons of sugar he saw the girl dump in the cup.

He runs into Zoro again in their own apartment, catching the tiger as he’s making his way back into his room. Sanji blocks his path, but Zoro simply turns away and steps out—in only his boxer briefs. He burns his eggs slightly and the bacon comes out crispier than intended. It doesn’t matter, since it tastes like dirt in his mouth.

The third time he runs into the walking moss it’s in the University’s cafeteria. Classes have already started, which only makes it easier for Zoro to avoid him, since they’re in different departments. But Sanji is not one to beg, so he hasn’t exactly been stalking the tiger. Their run-in is entirely coincidental, and Sanji sees the tiger tense in pre-flight mode until Sanji gives him a wide berth and sits on a table at the other end of the room.

He can’t help the few covert gazes he sends the other man. He is sitting in a rather large group, most of whom looks familiar. Sanji is able to recognize the long-nosed Usopp, as well as the red-haired cat. To his surprise, he sees the unusual reindeer despite knowing the boy is too young to be in college. There are a couple of other people in the group, but Sanji isn’t too sure whether he recognizes them or not.

Zoro is not actively participating in the conversation, but the others don’t keep him out. Usopp asks him something, and Zoro replies with a frown. The reindeer cuts in, and Zoro smiles and pats his hair. He looks like an older brother. Sanji can’t help smiling softly, surprised by the soft touch of the tiger. His expression immediately sours when the redhead leans in close to Zoro, whispering something in his ear. Zoro frowns and rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t push the redhead away when she practically climbs into his laps and proceeds to kiss him passionately.

Sanji jumps to his feet, cursing when his tray clatters on the ground and draws the attention of half the students. He keeps his eyes down as he quickly picks up the tray and hurries out of the cafeteria. He can feel eyes on him, but he doesn’t turn around.

He doesn’t know why he’s so surprised. It makes sense that Zoro would be dating someone. The tiger probably is not lacking in offers, and the red-head is a feline like him. It’s the closest Zoro can get to his own species, unless by some miracle he happens to meet another Xiamen Tiger. And she’s pretty, too. Long shiny hair, a perfectly voluptuous figure, a petite stature compared to the large tiger—they make the perfect couple.

It’s mid-October and Sanji decides to head down to the gym late at night. He usually goes in the mornings, but one of his professors switched the class hour to seven in the morning, and Sanji missed his chance. The machines in the main building are full, but Sanji is not one to do weight-lifting, so he bypasses them and goes to the sparring rooms towards the back.

The sound of wood hitting wood stops him, and curious by nature, he opens the door and peeks in.

The scent of sweat, adrenaline, and steel instantly floods his senses and his vision momentarily darkens before he takes a hold of his instincts and suppresses them. He already knows who’s inside the room, but that doesn’t stop him from seeking green-hair as his eyes sweep the room.

Zoro is in the middle of the room, dressed only in black loose pants. There are two wooden swords in his hands, and Sanji watches in fascination as he trains against the wooden dummy. Despite his large body, he moves with a grace and agility that Sanji would envy, if he didn’t possess the same. His muscles shift under perfectly tanned skin, his sweat giving him a soft shine. There is unmeasurable, raw power in every movement, but Sanji can see that Zoro is in perfect control of his abilities. But the most striking feature is his face: the absolute focus and determination in his gaze, the deep furrow of his eyebrows, the red glint of his eyes. Like this, he looks more beast than human, and Sanji can’t help but find the beauty in his wildness.

“Got lost, curly?”

Sanji blinks and straightens up at the sound of Zoro’s voice. When the swordsman turns to look at him, his expression is annoyed. Sanji scowls and crosses his arms. “Nah, just wondering where the smell of kitten litter was coming from. Should’ve known it was you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, cub?”

Sanji rolls his eyes and takes a step inside the room, moving his hands to his pockets. “So you’re a swordsman, huh. A dying form, if you ask me.”

“Then it fits me like a glove, wouldn’t you say?” Zoro’s smirk looks more like a snarl, the hostility clear in his voice. “A man that spends his days in a kitchen has no say in the ways I train my body. You’ll grow fat if you don’t find something to work yours, shit cook.”

“Fat? I bet I could kick your ass any time of the week, marimo,” Sanji scoffs. “Or did you forget the time I knocked you flat on your ass?”

Zoro growls and the grip on his swords tightens. “That was luck. I had little control over—.”

“I didn’t picture you as one for excuses,” Sanji interrupts. “Do you wanna try your luck against my legs again, or are you _too out of control_?” Sanji mocks, raising his left leg in front of him until his knee is level with his crouched shoulders.

Zoro’s eyes run over his body—Sanji tries to shake off the strange feeling those eyes give him—and then grins. “Don’t come crying to me after you lose, shit cook.”

Sanji copies the grin and rushes forward, striking out with his right leg. He’s not surprised when Zoro blocks it, but wood has never been enough to stop his kicks, and his grin widens when he hears the telltale creak of wood splintering.

Zoro jumps back and Sanji gives him a moment to study his now broken swords. “You know, these are school property,” Zoro says conversationally.

“You were the one who put them against me,” Sanji shrugs. “Unless you find something stronger, I’m not sure you’re going to be able to defeat me.”

“Alright,” Zoro says easily and Sanji watches him with narrow eyes as he walks to his discarded bag. It looks like a duffel bag, though this one is longer and thinner. When Zoro unzips the bag, Sanji is surprised to see three swords. Sanji doesn’t know much about swords, and other than the color—one black, one red, and one white—he can’t tell the difference between the three.

“Three swords? Are we overcompensating for something?” Sanji taunts as Zoro picks up the black and red swords, leaving the white one in the bag.

“If two are better than one, then it makes sense for three to be better than two,” Zoro answers, unsheathing his swords. The blades glint dangerously, but Sanji doesn’t back out.

“Only to your moss brain, marimo,” Sanji snorts, and once again, starts the fight. He doesn’t flinch when the swords strike against his legs, despite the wicked glint they give off. He can tell that they are sharp—perhaps even sharper than his own knives—but Zoro strikes with the flat of his blade. It still hurts like a motherfucker, and Sanji laughs when he realizes that Zoro might be able to keep up with his attacks.

Finally, someone that seems to be on his level.

Zoro looks as elated as he feels, and Sanji can’t help but show off a little. He stretches and bends his body as he evades Zoro’s blades, his legs strike with deadly accuracy and overwhelming strength—and Zoro gives it as good as he takes: his body is not just for show, and when those arms wrap around Sanji’s waist and tackle him to the ground, he can’t even complain at the loss. He snarls and bares his teeth at the tiger, because even in defeat he’s not compliant, and Zoro answers with deep-belly growl that would’ve had Sanji cowering if he were younger and less in control of his inner fox.

“Good job, marimo,” Sanji says, trying to catch his breath as Zoro towers over him, his large hands holding Sanji’s wrists down. “Think you can let me up?” Zoro’s eyes narrow, and—very deliberately—takes a deep sniff. Sanji blushes and bucks up. “What the fuck? Why are you sniffing me, idiot?!” he demands.

Zoro rolls his eyes and gets off of him, rolling to the side until his laying down on the mats with his hands pillowing his head. “Your ears flatten in fear, but you don’t smell like fear.”

Sanji rolls his eyes, too, and settles next to Zoro, a foot of space between them. His right hands goes below his head, but his left hand presses down on his stomach, wishing the butterflies would just leave him alone. He doesn’t need these feelings. “It’s not fear. When my ears lower, it can also mean submission. But that’s more of an animal instinct than what I really feel. Just because my fox is telling me to roll on my back for your tiger every time you growl doesn’t mean I will. I have more pride than that.”

Zoro hums quietly. The silence that settles between them is not awkward, it’s not oppressive. It’s just silence, and Sanji finds himself almost nodding off before Zoro’s voice wakes him.

“When were younger…in the basketball court—that wasn’t really me,” Zoro begins, and for some reason, Sanji is glad than he can’t see Zoro’s expression. “I was…I had just gone into rut, and when I sensed another predator—.”

“You reacted aggressively,” Sanji interrupts, his eyes widening in realization.

“I tried to apologize,” Zoro goes on, speaking quickly as if ripping off a band-aid. “I went to the Baratie, but they said you were busy at the back.”

Sanji remembers that day. He hid in the kitchen until Carne told him Zoro had left. If he had walked out…how different would his relationship with Zoro be right now? He’s never felt a regret as deep as the one he feels now.

“Oh.” It’s stupid, but it’s all he can say.

“Yeah.”

Sanji is plagued with a list of possibilities. Every single way their relationship could’ve gone if he’d just acted differently. If he hadn’t yelled back at Zoro, if he had walked out into the dining floor that day instead of hiding in the back. If he had confronted Zoro that day he found him lost outside of his apartment. He had so many chances—and now, he has the tiger living a couple of feet away from him. And things are playing the exact same way it always did: with Zoro and Sanji as strangers that somehow managed to meet.

He thinks of the red-haired cat, Zoro’s girlfriend. If he thinks hard enough, he can almost remember her in the basketball courts. Naomi or Vivian…her name doesn’t come easily. He can’t hope to have a relationship with Zoro like the one she shares with him, but he can at least choose not to be just another random face. He’s never understood his own fascination with the tiger, and his curiosity is screaming at him to take the chance to know him better.

Sanji sits up and looks at Zoro, smiling when he sees the nervous shift of his eyes as the tiger tries to hold his gaze. “You know, ignoring the problem won’t make it go away.”

Zoro groans and finally looks away. “Shut up,” he mutters. “It’s not my fault that our whole relationship is littered with misunderstandings.”

Sanji shakes his head at the word relationship. It doesn’t fit at all. “How different do you think things would be if you hadn’t been in rut that day?”

Zoro cocks his head and hums thoughtfully. “Well, I would still find you annoying. You did throw a ball at my head. But I wouldn’t have attacked you.”

“The ball thing was an accident,” Sanji snaps. “And be serious.”

“I don’t know,” Zoro shrugs. “I’m not a psychic.”

“Guess not,” Sanji sighs. He takes out a cigarette from his pocket and lights it. Zoro shifts but doesn’t say anything as the smell of nicotine spreads around the room. The drug works to calm down Sanji’s rapidly beating heart, and he tries to keep his expression blank as he stands up and dusts his slacks. He turns to Zoro and tries to ignore the way the moonlight highlight his sharp features. “Sanji Black,” he says, extending his arm out to Zoro. “Can’t say it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Zoro stares at his hand, and for a moment Sanji thinks he’s going to snap it away, but then he grins and takes it, allowing Sanji to help him to his feet. “Zoro Roronoa. Likewise, shit cook.”

Sanji lifts an eyebrow and hides his hands in his pockets as Zoro picks up his swords and checks them for scratches. “Roronoa? Why does that name sound familiar?”

Zoro shrugs and sheaths his swords, satisfied that Sanji’s legs didn’t harm them too much. He will have to sharpen them again, though. “Maybe you heard it in passing?”

“No,” Sanji murmurs, thinking. It will bother him for ages if he doesn’t figure out. Zoro puts his swords back in the bag and picks it up. The rustling sound they make jog Sanji’s memory, and he suddenly has an image of a pretty, pink-haired woman in his mind. “Roronoa! Isn’t that the name of that woman who married Mihawk Dracule?”

“You mean my mother?” Zoro snorts. “Kind of obvious, isn’t it, idiot?”

Sanji gasps and kicks at Zoro’s shin. “I’m the idiot? How was I supposed to know that your father is _the_ Dracule Mihawk?! No wonder you’re a swordsman. Isn’t he like the best in the world?”

“Yeah,” Zoro answers. “But I will take the title from him soon.”

Sanji doesn’t say anything. It’s clear to him that this is something important to Zoro, something he won’t share to a person he’s just met. “I thought your father was human,” Sanji says to change the topic. “Didn’t you go to the Baratie with two humans when you were younger?”

Zoro lifts an eyebrow, surprised that Sanji remembers that, but the cook doesn’t look his way, still guiding the way to their dorm room. “That was my sensei and his daughter. I was close with Kuina, so she invited me to celebrate her birthday.”

“Was? You guys aren’t anymore?”

“She passed away,” Zoro answers, an air of finality in his voice. Sanji doesn’t press. Instead, he changes topics once more, and the conversation keeps flowing.

They talk, even though they don’t need to. It’s not that their silences are uncomfortable, it’s just that their conversations are better. They argue, of course—Sanji doubts he’s ever going to meet anyone as contradictory as Zoro. The man rubs him in all the wrong ways, yet he can’t get enough of it—and they banter. Zoro pulls when Sanji pushes, but somehow it works. He doesn’t realize that they’ve made it home and are still talking in their living room until Zoro stops the conversation to yawn, which of course causes Sanji to yawn.

“Holy shit, it’s three in the morning,” Sanji gasps, looking at his almost-dead phone through bleary eyes. “I have an early class in the morning!”

“Ha, I don’t have one until three,” Zoro grins, blinking sleepily. He rubs at his eye with the back of his hand and suddenly he looks so much like a cat that Sanji wants to rub his ears. Whoa, he really needs to sleep.

“Fuck you,” Sanji says, just to say something. “Lucky bastard. Wake up at seven so you can eat breakfast with me.”

“What? Hell no,” Zoro grumbles. “That’s way too early. I need naps, shit cook.”

“C’mon, it’s just gonna be half an hour. You can go back to bed after,” Sanji coaxes, stretching his foot out until he can rub at Zoro’s shoulders. Maybe it’s the fact that they’re practically sleep already, but neither one complains. In fact, Zoro grabs his ankle as he leans more heavily into Sanji’s foot, his thumbs pressing on either side of his Achilles tendon in a way that feels too good.

“Don’t wanna. Just skip your class,” Zoro groans, and his eyes are already closed.

“Don’t wanna,” Sanji copies, just to annoy the tiger, but when Zoro doesn’t reply, Sanji moves his foot off Zoro’s shoulder, and he falls on top of Sanji. Sanji groans when Zoro’s heavy weight lands on his lower body, but the tiger only grumbles and makes himself comfortable, wrapping his arms around Sanji’s waist.

“You’re heavy, marimo,” Sanji mumbles, his blinking too slow as he stares down at Zoro. His conscious is trying to tell him something important, but most of his brain is asleep already. All of his strength is going into speaking, and he’s not entirely too sure of the words he’s saying. His feet are wrapped around Zoro, hooked together at the ankles and resting on the small of his back, right above his tail. He kicks off his shoes, and when he returns his feet to Zoro’s back, Zoro’s tail wraps around one of his ankles.

“You’re comfy,” Zoro mumbles into his stomach.

“We gotta go to bed,” Sanji slurs, his hands going to Zoro’s hair. It’s surprisingly silky

“Yeah.”

Neither of them move, though, and it isn’t long before they’re both asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to start things off my thanking all the people that read and/or comment. Really, I get the goofiest grin whenever I read one of your comments. Even if I don't reply to you, that doesn't mean I didn't like it or read it--it means I probably got too nervous and thought of a long-ass reply before chickening out and just erased it. Okay, I'll shut up now and let you guys get on with the story.

Zoro wakes up uncomfortable. The sun is shining through the window straight into his face, and there’s something hard and pointy pressing painfully into his calf. When he opens his eye, it takes him a moment to realize he’s on the floor with one hand tucked awkwardly underneath him and the other thrown over the coffee table. Sanji is spread-eagled on the sofa face down, with one of his legs hanging off and the knee pressing into Zoro’s foot.

He grins when he realizes Sanji probably kicked him off the couch.

He sits up and takes a moment to study the fox up close—his first chance to ever do so. Asleep, the always-present smirk is gone. His hair is pushed back, revealing that second eyebrow that curls the same way and makes him look—while not exactly ugly—silly. His tail is tucked in between his spread legs and his ears twitch where they lay flat on his head.

He takes a deep breath and the scent of spices and nicotine surrounds him, but he also gets a stronger scent of dried sweat and wrinkles his nose in distaste. That’s right, they fell asleep after sparring. He really wants to stay and watch Sanji a bit longer, but that’s kind of creepy, so Zoro gets to his feet and heads to the shower.

When he’s done and he’s sneaking back into his room because he forgot to grab clean clothes, he hears Sanji working in the kitchen and smiles.

“You made me miss my class, marimo,” Sanji says instead of a greeting when Zoro joins him in the kitchen. “So you have to drink your brethren.”

Sanji nods to a glassful of green smoothie, and Zoro scowls at the joke. “It isn’t my fault you didn’t wake up, cook.”

“My phone was dead so the alarm didn’t go off, and it’s your fault I fell asleep so late,” Sanji declares, setting a plate with two slices of toast spread with peanut butter and topped with banana and chia seeds in the center table. “The breakfast is simple, but it’ll fill you up.”

“You don’t have any more classes today?”

“One, in the afternoon.”

“You wanna go down to the gym and spar again?” Zoro asks hesitantly. He wants to spend more time with Sanji. It certainly feels better than ignoring him. And they’re friends now. Or at least, they’re trying to become friends. Zoro doesn’t know how close he can get to the fox while still maintaining a friendly distance, but he intends to find out. And maybe…with all of the misunderstandings out of the way…he and Sanji can become something more. Sanji did reassure him yesterday that he wasn’t afraid of Zoro, but he still wants to keep things slow. Just because his tiger was stupid enough to mate with Sanji at first sight, it doesn’t mean that Sanji will want him in that way.

“Okay,” Sanji answers his question. “I need to go grocery shopping first, so I’ll meet you there say… one?”

“That’s fine.”

Because of the simple breakfast, it doesn’t take long for them to finish. Sanji takes a shower and leaves for the grocery store, and Zoro—for lack of anything better to do—goes to Luffy and Usopp’s apartment. He immediately feels irritated when he sees Kaya and Nami sitting on the kitchen bar, and Nami looks up at his annoyed huff.

“Don’t tell me you’re still pissed at me?” the cat asks, rolling her eyes. “It was a little kiss!”

“Shut up,” Zoro snaps. “I don’t like you like that.”

“I don’t either, moron. But it made your puppy notice you, didn’t it? I bet he was jealous.”

“He _left_!”

“I know. It was _adorable_.”

Zoro rolls his eyes and takes a sit on the sofa next to Chopper. The young boy is too busy studying to pay too much attention, but Chopper’s scent has always been able to calm him down. It’s the most soothing scent he has ever smelled, and if Chopper weren’t so young and Zoro had never met Sanji, he wants to say that maybe he could’ve mated with Chopper. It feels wrong and dirty to think about it now, though, since he sees Chopper more like a little brother.

“Hey, you know I don’t mean anything by it, right?” Nami asks, her voice soft. Zoro glances at her, apprehensive, and feels a little guilty when he sees her upset frown. He knows Nami has the best of intentions—well, maybe not the _best_ , but they’re friends and Nami would never seriously harm him—but he’s been pretty pissed at her ever since she refused to help him switch roommates. He thinks of last night, of falling asleep in Sanji’s arms, lulled into the best sleep of his life (despite being kicked off in the middle of the night) by Sanji’s amazing scent, and he can’t help but think that maybe Nami is on to something here. “I just wanted to help,” she adds.

“I know,” he finally answers.

“You two are bumming us out,” Usopp snaps from where he’s seated on the floor way too close to the TV trying to beat Luffy at Mario Kart and failing miserably.

“I’m not bummed. I just beat you again!” Luffy cheers.

“Shut up! Another!”

“You two are such idiots!” Nami snaps. “Don’t you guys want to see Zoro happy!?”

“Eh? Of course,” Luffy says absentmindedly. “He’s happy.”

“He just needs to man up and talk to Sanji,” Usopp says, yelping when Zoro kicks him in the shoulder.

“I don’t want to hear that from you, wimp. And I don’t need your help—any of you.”

“Ha! You would’ve never even talked to him if I hadn’t invited him to the basketball court!”

“Shut up! That started this whole mess,” Zoro snaps. “And just so you know, Sanji and I are sparring partners now. In fact, we’re meeting at the gym in a couple of hours to spar again!”

He knows as soon as he says it that he’s made a grave error. Luffy actually presses pause on the game, and Chopper puts his book down to look up at him with wide eyes.

Nami is the first to react, jumping from the counter to tackle him into a tight hug and squeal in his ear way too loudly. “Oh my god, that’s great news, Zoro!”

“It really is!” Chopper agrees.

“Oi, it’s not that big of a deal!” Zoro snaps, trying to get her off, but she’s surprisingly strong for having such a small body. “Don’t make it weird!”

“Don’t worry, Zoro. We won’t embarrass you in front of your crush,” Usopp says deviously. “I mean, why would we retell the story of how you spent hours outside of his apartment—Kaya, help me!”

Kaya laughs as Usopp scrambles to her to escape Zoro’s punch. Nami drags Zoro back to the sofa and he resigns himself to be used as a cuddle buddy. It’s not usual for Nami or Zoro to do this, since they’re both solitary by nature, but they’ve known each other long enough that it doesn’t feel weird when Nami settles more comfortably in his lap and rests her head in his chest.

“You should tell him how you feel,” Nami whispers into his skin. “He probably feels the mating bond, too.”

Zoro sighs. He’s thought about it, of course. If they’re mated, then Sanji is bound to feel the same things Zoro feels for him. Sanji demonstrated an insane amount of trust yesterday by allowing Zoro to sleep with him—unusual, in a fox. But Zoro mated him when they were _six_. He doesn’t know how, he doesn’t even know why, but he knows it was way too early. And until a few hours ago, he’d thought that Sanji was terrified of him.

But like his father has always told him, they’re human before they are beast, and humans don’t mate. Zoro has no idea whether Sanji likes him as a person. If they weren’t hybrids, if they had been born without tails and ears like Usopp and Luffy, would he still like Sanji? Would Sanji like him?  Their animal sides are already mated, but Zoro wants their human sides to bond, too.

“Not yet,” Zoro answers, and the air of finality in his voice is enough that she doesn’t question it.

 

Sanji is already in the gym when Zoro arrives. He finds the fox near the pools, talking to a dark-haired man he mildly recognizes. The guy is only wearing a pair of swimming shorts that look like they weight more wet than he does. Zoro frowns a little when he sees the ridges of his ribs, the fades scars, and the day-old bruises. His left ear is ripped a little, like somebody took a bite out of it, and his tail is thin and a little bit dull—Zoro has seen guys like this, back in the rabid rings. What the hell is Sanji doing talking to this guy?

“Hey, cook, are you ready?” Zoro interrupts rudely, not that he cares. Zoro doesn’t like that mutt.

Sanji glances at him, a strange expression on his face, and Zoro sees him hesitate before he answers. “Yeah. I’ll see you later, Gin.”

“Sure,” the mutt answers, his voice a lazy drawl that instantly annoys Zoro. He can’t discern a scent other than chlorine from the man, and it makes him feel on edge.

Zoro lets Sanji lead the way, putting himself between the fox and the mutt as they make their way to the sparring rooms in the back. “Who was that?” he asks, biting at his lower lip as soon as the question is out there.

“Gin? He’s a classmate,” Sanji shrugs. “Why were you so late, marimo? Thought about chickening out?”

“As if!” Zoro snorts. “I was working off some excess energy.” Completely destroying Luffy and Usopp in Mario Kart always leaves him feeling rested and satisfied, especially since when they were younger the two humans always beat him at video games and constantly made fun of him for it.

“Is that so?” Sanji murmurs, ducking his head to let his curtain of hair cover his face. “You better grab that third sword, moss head. I’m not taking it easy on you today.”

“Don’t mess with me,” Zoro growls, reacting to the clear challenge. “I beat you yesterday; or have you forgotten that?”

Sanji tightens the strings of his sweatpants and taps his toe on the matted floor. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Zoro should have really known better than to underestimate the fox. Sanji barely gives him enough time to withdraw Shusui and Kitetsu before he’s on the attack, driving Zoro back with the force and speed of his legs. Zoro has no fucking idea how the fox can fight on par with his blade using only his legs, but fuck if it doesn’t get him going.

Sanji is absolutely gorgeous fighting like this, and even as Zoro fights to get the upper hand, he can take the time to appreciate that. He can tell that Sanji is fighting better than before, but it isn’t until he tries to tackle him to the ground like yesterday, that Sanji shows what he’s truly made of. The fox bucks and twists away from Zoro, hissing and snarling as he pivots and flexes his body impossibly to deliver a resounding kick to Zoro’s jaw that sends him crashing against the wall, unarmed.

“Fuck,” he groans, spitting out blood.

“Told you not to underestimate me,” Sanji growls, putting his hands in his pockets. “My win.”

“Like hell!” Zoro snarls. “Again!” he demands, but Sanji rolls his eyes and doesn’t move.

“I have a class at 3:30, and you have one at 3:00…we can do this tomorrow, but for today, it’s my win,” Sanji says.

“C’mon, skip it!”

“Fuck you, I already skipped my morning class! You lost, deal with it!”

Zoro growls, a deep rumbling that has made more than one person cower in fear, but Sanji only snorts and walks leisurely to his duffel bag to look for a water bottle. Zoro can see his submissive ears, but the fox looks nothing more than a bit annoyed.

Damn, Sanji must have a hell of a will to fight his instincts like that every day. He feels kind of like an ass for trying to coax Sanji into another fight, so he stops his rumbling and sheathes Kitetsu and Shusui. “Fine,” he gives in. “Tomorrow, then. Let’s see if you can keep up with Wado Ichimonji.”

“Named all your swords, huh? Is that like a swordsman thing?”

“The blacksmith who creates the sword names them in most instances,” Zoro explains, grabbing a bottle from his own bag. “But sometimes the swordsman does.”

“The white one—Wado—that’s your favorite, right?” Sanji asks curiously, staring at the beautiful white katana inside the bag.

Zoro zips it up and shoulders it, breaking Sanji’s contact. “You could say that. It’s not about favoritism, it’s about the bond. Wado has been with me the longest, and we both share the same dream.” He leads the way out, Sanji walking by his side.

Not many people can understand the bond that exists between Zoro and his blades. He knows his father understands, for he shares a similar bond with his blade. Luffy, too, seems to have an inkling to what it means, though Zoro has never been able to see just how deep Luffy’s insight goes. But the others always nod and smile when he talks about his swords, almost as if they’re indulging a child. Sanji, however, shows curiosity. Zoro can’t tell if he understands or not, but it is clear that he wants to know more.

For some reason, though, he doesn’t ask.

“Sanji, you’re still here?”

Zoro stops when Sanji does, and he wants to wrap his tail possessively around Sanji’s when the mutt from before returns. He’s still wearing the swimming shorts, though he still isn’t wet. What is he doing here, then? Stalking the fox?

“Yeah, but I’m on my way out. We have class at 3:30, remember?”

“Yeah, but I don’t get off until 3:00. Anyway, I kind of wanted to ask you if you wanted to come with me to the Wild Cherry this Friday? I know the lead singer in one of the bands that plays there, so I could probably get us in for free.”

Zoro can practically taste the mutt’s nervousness. He kind of feels sorry for the poor dog—it must take a lot of bravery to ask out someone like Sanji, knowing you’re gonna get rejected. But it’s a little bit funny, too—imagine, Sanji with the mutt! Hah, it’s utterly ridiculous!

“Yeah, sure,” Sanji says easily, surprising both Gin and Zoro. “It’s a date!”

Zoro’s heart hits the floor probably at the same time Gin’s face splits into a wide smile. “Alright! I’ll, uh, I see you later? Um, I gotta go…work and—.”

“I’ll see you in class, Gin,” Sanji cuts him off, a gentle smile on his face. “Go back to work.”

“Yes! I’ll do that! Well, bye. Uh, you too man.”

Zoro doesn’t answer, and Gin doesn’t expect one. Sanji leads the way out, that fucking stupid smile still on his face, and Zoro follows him on autopilot. What just happened? Did he just witness Sanji being asked out? And why the fuck did Sanji say yes? And to that fucking mutt!?

Sanji is _his_ mate!

“Isn’t the Wild Cherry a little dangerous?” he asks, his brain scrambling to find an excuse, anything to convince Sanji not to go ahead with this date.

“Is it?” Sanji asks, flippantly. “Never been there.”

“It’s a seedy bar,” Zoro says quickly. “There’s a rabid ring underneath; it belongs to some guy named   
Doflamingo.”

“Huh, you seem to know a lot about this bar.”

Of course he does. The Wild Cherry is down at the docks, where Zoro used to go fight. The Wild Cherry is a bit different, though, trying to keep the image of an upscale club to gather the attention of idiots who go there to watch the up-and-coming bands perform. If you’re a girl, it’s suicide to go there alone. You either get kidnapped and sold overseas, you get hooked on some kind of new drug being tested, or you get roofied and—well, it’s a bad idea. You run the same risks if you’re a guy, though the market for male sex slaves isn’t as big. Instead, you get thrown down in the ring, forced to fight until you either die or you get crippled and put down.

The only way to be safe in a club like that is if you go in a group, or if you know someone. Zoro was lucky enough that his father’s reputation preceded him, not to mention the fact that Luffy is a serious badass in the underground world. Zoro has seen the human fight on par with hybrids so pumped of meth and cocaine that they can hardly be called anything but monsters anymore.

And Gin is taking Sanji there?

“Sanji, don’t go,” he says, stopping the fox in the middle of the street. A person walking behind them huffs and gives them a wide berth, but Zoro couldn’t care less.

“What? Why?” Sanji questions, his eyes shifting over Zoro curiously. Almost…eagerly?

“It’s a dangerous place,” Zoro repeats, frowning when Sanji’s face closes off. “You could get hurt and—.”

“I can take care of myself,” Sanji growls, pushing past him. “You know, I’m glad you care and all, but if you want to be friends, you seriously need to stop underestimating me.”

“I doubt it. Not in this place; Cook, you don’t—.”

A long leg stretches out and a foot presses into Zoro’s throat, slamming him against the side of a building and cutting off his air supply.

“Listen to me, you shitty tiger,” Sanji growls, his lips pulled back in a snarl that shows off the wicked glint of his extended canines. “You may be the king of the rainforest, or whatever the fuck it’s called, but you’re gonna respect me, alright? I’m a predator, just like you, and it looks to me like the one in trouble of losing his head right now is you.”

The foot is presses down more, and Zoro is seriously starting to see black spots, but the fox’s leg is unmovable.

“So whatever overbearing, big alpha, macho man act you’re trying to pull, you better put an end to it right now. Got it?”

Zoro tries to nod, but he’s not getting any air, and his head is going fuzzy. Suddenly, the force holding him against the wall is gone, and Zoro falls to his knees, gulping in air. His eye sight is blurry, and he can only make out his own hands holding him up, and Sanji’s black shoes.

Holy shit, he seriously underestimated the fox.

“I don’t—.” He’s prevented from gasping out the words by a cough that leaves him shaking, but he gulps in more air and trudges on. “S-sorry. I just…worry…I’m—.”

“It’s fine,” Sanji mutters. Zoro feels him kneel down, then there’s warm hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. “I just hate being looked down upon. People don’t exactly like foxes, you know.”

He knows. He’s well aware of the reputation that proceeds foxes, but he’s not one to pay attention to things like that. He’s beaten up more than one person for insulting the race of his mate, to be honest. Not all foxes are the cowardly, conniving tricksters people make them out to be.

“Come one, moss head. On your feet,” Sanji says, pulling him up. “Hands on your head; that’s right, breathe.”

Is easier to breathe now. Sanji is still holding him up, his hands on his hips, and he looked a bit worried as Zoro continues to take in deep breaths.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Zoro says in one big breath, glad that his lungs don’t protest.

“Nah, you just pissed me off,” Sanji shrugs. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Zoro wants to argue some more. He wants to tell Sanji not to go with Gin, not only because the Wild Cherry is a dangerous place, but because Sanji shouldn’t be with that mutt. But he doesn’t argue. Instead, he wonders if Sanji would get terribly mad if Zoro accidentally-on-purpose crashes his date. Oh well, only one way to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this chapter was shorter, I just didn't want to miss the due date. Anyway, I'm starting my college classes next week, so I might not be able to update as quickly as before. I'm definitely not dropping this story though!  
> Also, because this is my first fanfic, this isn't going to be a very long story. I'll probably write two or three more chapters before the story ends--I just don't want to mess it up by creating an overly complicated plot. That's reserved for my later fics. But to finish off on good news, I do already have a couple of more stories written up, so after this one ends, you won't have to wait long before I post another story.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated, yay!!! Sorry for the long wait, peeps. I hit a wall and then I got distracted with another story. Um...I'm still a bit blocked, but I really wanted to write something, so this might feel a bit forced...I tried to smooth it out, so let me know how well I did.

Sanji takes a long shower to calm down his nerves. He’s been on edge ever since he smelled the citrus scent all over Zoro. Hearing Zoro insinuate he had sex with his girlfriend only made him feel worse.

Shit, he shouldn’t have accepted Gin’s offer. He’d only said yes to try and piss off Zoro, but that had horribly backfired. He’d thought Zoro’s concern might’ve been jealousy, but he had been painfully brought down from cloud nine when the tiger had doubted his strength. He’d been planning to cancel on Gin, but then Zoro had voice his concern and now he wants nothing more than to go to that stupid club and prove to the tiger that they are equals.

He can probably just go, drink a couple of beers, and leave. He has no intentions of getting serious with Gin—it isn’t fair to Gin, and Sanji doesn’t even have the excuse of thinking Zoro will get jealous. He gets out of the shower and dries off. He picks out a comfortable outfit, something that looks good on him but doesn’t look he made any effort to look good for Gin.

When he walks out, Zoro isn’t in his room. He ignores the thought that whispers that maybe Zoro is with his girlfriend, then grabs his house keys and walks out. He had agreed to meet with Gin outside of Merry Go, his now favorite coffee shop, but he has to wait a couple of minutes before Gin shows up.

“Sorry!” he gasps out, a little out of breath. “I couldn’t find my phone!”

“That’s okay,” Sanji shrugs. “Where’s this Wild Cherry anyway?” He’s a little curious as to why Gin would ask him out to this place if it’s as seedy as Zoro says it is.

“Down by the docks,” Gin answers. “It’s not that far—do you mind walking?”

“Nah, it’s fine.”

Sanji doesn’t really know much about Gin, so they spent their time talking. He shares a couple of classes with him, though the other man isn’t a culinary major like him. The night is a pleasant cool, a warning to the cold front that will be coming in the next couple of weeks, so Sanji doesn’t really mind having to walk. And like Gin said, the docks aren’t that far away.

When Sanji thinks about Zoro’s warning, he pictures the docks being seedy and trashy, the kind of place that just screams ‘ _illegal activities!_ ’. Instead, he’s surprised to see a bright and busy business strip. There are a couple of clubs and bars, crowds of people walking in and out, packs of girls laughing and boys being rowdy. It looks…normal.

The only thing that looks iffy is the hulking bouncer, but the guy simply nods at Gin and lets them inside without a hitch. As soon as they enter the club, the smell of sweat, alcohol, and cheap perfume hits him and leaves him a bit dazed. Gin gives him an apologetic smile, but he looks more used to the vulgar scent, so Sanji lets himself be guided to the bar.

Gin nods at the bartender and leans in to order. The guy nods and turns around to get their drinks ready.

“Sorry!” Gin yells in his ear to be heard above the loud music. “It’s always like this on Fridays! The band is pretty popular!”

“It’s okay,” Sanji yells back and takes the drink the bartender offers him. It’ sweet with just the barest hint of alcohol. He’s not much of a drinker, and he knows sweet drinks are a danger because you never can tell just how much alcohol they have, so he makes a mental note not to drink more than two.

The band that’s playing tonight _does_ look pretty popular, judging by the tightly packed crowd near the stage that’s screaming and dancing to the upbeat music. Sanji doesn’t particular enjoy clubs or live music, but he promised himself he was going to relax and have fun tonight. So when Gin invites him to the dancer floor, he goes easily.

It doesn’t take long for him to get lost in the crowd. He really doesn’t know if the person he’s dancing against is Gin or some other sweaty, hot body, but it feels too good to care. The drinks keep coming, and they taste freaking good, so keeps drinking them. He doesn’t feel drunk at all, just pumped full of adrenaline. It’s the same feeling he gets before he’s about to get into a fight, the same burning challenge that burns through him and leaves him exhilarated.

Skinny arms wrap around his waist and Sanji leans back into the wiry chest. There’s an uncomfortable pressure in his lower back, and some fucking sweaty dude is pressing too close to his side, so he’s glad when whoever is holding him tugs him out of the dancing crowd.

“Dude, you’re _so_ drunk!” Gin laughs in his ear—oh, he’s the one that’s holding him. Sanji laughs, too, simply because he feels good, and leans heavily against Gin.

“M’not!” he denies, his speech slurred. “Didn’t drink that much.”

“What?” Gin asks, clearly not understanding his garbled speed, but shakes his head and tugs him closer. “C’mon! Let’s get you sobered up!”

He thinks he sees a flash of green in the dance floor, but it’s just his imagination. He shakes off the feeling of disappointment and lets Gin move him around. He can feel his heart thumping to the beat of the music, the scents are all around him thick and heady and sticking to his throat. Everything is too hot, too heavy, and when Gin helps him splash cold water on his face, it’s the best feeling ever. He’s a tad disoriented, his brain fuzzy and muddy, voices around him muddled.

There is this feeling of wrongness that is slowly creeping up on him, and no matter how hard he shakes his head, it won’t leave him alone. It takes him a moment to realize that the music is gone and the room is brighter—too bright for his dilated eyes. There is a thick, medicinal stench all around him, a smell that reminds him too much of hospitals and cleaning products. There is this strange feeling inside of him, not unpleasant but odd in an unfamiliar kind of way. It feels like his blood has thickened in his veins, like the air he’s breathing has tiny shards of glass—not big enough to hurt, but big enough to give him the feeling of sand paper in his lungs.

“Gin…” Sanji says, though he doesn’t know if the word came out of his mouth. His tongue feels heavy, his mouth dry. When he tries to move, it feels like his limbs are made out of lead. Something is wrong…something is very, very wrong.

“It looks like he’s coming to,” a deep voice says somewhere to his left. Sanji tries to find the source, but he only succeeds in lolling his face a bit to the side. He’s sitting down, he suddenly realizes.

“I gave him a lot,” a familiar voice replies. _Gin,_ his mind uselessly supplies. “He probably has no idea what’s going on around him.”

“It’s fine. His immune system is stronger than yours. Shit, I can’t believe I fucking got a _purebred_ in my hands! Look at his tail!”

Rough hands grips his tail where it connects to his spinal cord and Sanji flinches. He wants to move away, bite the hand off, but he can’t even talk. His pupils are slowly contracting and the room doesn’t look as bright as before, but he still can’t move his arms or legs.

“How much stuff did you give him?” the deep voice asks and Sanji jerks when something brushes against his ears. He flattens them in an effort to get them away from the touch, but yelps when they’re roughly pulled up.

“Um….four, five shots?”

“ _Five_ shots? He shouldn’t be…are you fucking sure he’s unmated?”

“Y-yeah! I’ve never seen him with anyone,” Gin exclaims.

Sanji jerks his hand and groans when the heavy feeling in his veins leaves him. He feels like he’s waking up from a deep sleep, or like how he felt after the first night he got drunk. Everything is loaded and fucking slow, but at least the feeling is slowly fading. Whatever shit Gin gave him—whatever _drug_ he slipped in his drink—is slowly leaving his system.

He feels the sharp sting of shame and anger at having been caught in this position. Shit, Zoro fucking warned him that this place was dangerous, he should have been more careful. Why would Gin ask him to such a shady place? Why didn’t he listen to Zoro? A fucking _tiger_ warned him, and his stupid pride was too big to listen to him. Now he’s probably going to be killed or drugged until he loses sight of his humanity and is nothing more than an angry, snarling animal.

He gags when thick fingers enter his mouth and roughly push it down. He tries to bite down on them, hating the sharp tang of salt and something sour. Something dry is pressed down on his tongue, giving him the same feeling of licking paper, then the fingers are gone.

“Fucker,” he growls and is elated when the word comes out semi-understandable. He tries to follow the movement around him and this time he succeeds: his eyes meet Gin’s horrified expression, but he’s more interested in the other, taller man with silvery hair. This one is human, his scent acrid and fucking _wrong_ , but Sanji’s instincts tell him that this man is the one in charge here.

“H-how!? I gave him the drug, Don Krieg! I swear!” Gin exclaims, looking at the older man. “He’s not mated!”

The other man, Krieg, stares at the slip of paper in his hand. Sanji is still a little out of it, but he knows that’s what the man shoved in his mouth. It kind of reminds Sanji of litmus paper, but this one is wider than it is longer. The paper itself is a dark gray color, but there’s a wet spot on the edge that is fading slowly—not entirely white, but a lighter color than the rest.

“He’s _bonded_ ,” Krieg snarls. “Nobody’s gonna want a fucking bonded hybrid! Fucking shit!”

“I’m gonna fucking kick your ass,” Sanji gasps out, but the human ignores him. Gin is silently staring between Sanji and the other man, the thick scent of fear making Sanji’s nostrils flare. The feeling in his limbs is slowly returning, but he’s still not strong enough to take on both of them. Fucking shit, he’s gonna fucking rip their throats out.

“We’re gonna have to break the bond,” Krieg finally says firmly, and the scent of fear spikes.

“ _Break it_!?” Gin gasps. “Don, that…that could kill him!”

“He’s as useless now as he is dead!” Krieg snarls. “I’m not gonna lose this fucking money because of some fucking half-baked bond, you hear me! Watch him while I go get it.”

“But Don—.”

“Are you fucking disobeying me?”

Sanji has no idea what the fuck is going on. It seems like whatever drug they gave him isn’t working like they thought it should—Gin probably knows that Sanji is not easy to overpower when he’s in full capacity of his limbs. But why the fuck do they think he’s mated? And what the fuck is a bond? Is this one of those obscure things about hybrids he doesn’t know? Fuck, he loves Zeff (he will never say it at loud, but he really does), but sometimes he hates the fact that he was raised by humans. Hybrids are secretive, especially since they haven’t been around all that long compared to humans. It’s only been about five hundred years since the first humans evolved into hybrids and back in those times, humans feared them. It’s only recently that they have been able to integrate somewhat into society, but there are still things about hybrid biology that isn’t public knowledge—much less to humans. Shit, in some third world countries, hybrids are still treated like objects.

“No, sir!” Gin quickly says, lowering his ears in submission. Krieg scoffs but leaves them, slamming the door shut behind him. But in that short time the door opened, Sanji is able to hear the muted beat of music and realizes that they’re still at the club. Maybe he doesn’t need to overpower these guys. Maybe he just needs to get far enough that he can yell for help. He’s gonna have to use the element of surprise in order to pull this off. Gin doesn’t look like much, but Sanji has seen him working out and knows that there is some strength to the mutt. He’s not strong enough to escape Gin right now, but maybe if he pretends that the feeling isn’t coming back to his body, he can make his escape when Krieg comes back.

He forces himself to stay pliant and spread on the uncomfortable chair. His eyes follow Gin’s movements, but the mutt isn’t looking at him. He looks nervous and scared and for the first time, Sanji wonders why he would follow a human. He’s clearly the stronger of the two—humans are, by nature, always physically weaker than them—but he is clearly cowed by the other.

“I didn’t know you were bonded.”

Sanji narrows his eyes at the question but knows better than to answer. If he speaks, Gin will realize that the effects of the drug are almost gone. The feeling of lead running through his veins is gone, but his heart is still beating too rapidly. He feels exhausted, like he’s been running for days, but he can feel his muscles responding to him. Should he try escaping now, before Krieg comes back?

Gin turns his back on him when is clear Sanji won’t answer, and the fox takes his chance. There is a terrible second when he thinks his body won’t respond, but then he’s on his feet and running towards the door. He hears Gin curse behind him, but his hands are already reaching the door and all he needs to do is touch it and—

The fucking door opens.

Sanji stares with wide eyes at the human for a frozen moment, but then Krieg reacts. He slaps him across the face, hard, and Sanji hits the floors. He tastes blood and the blow leaves him disoriented, but he’s already back on his feet. Like fuck is he going to give up now!

“Hold him!” Krieg yells, his thick arms wrapping around Sanji’s chest to keep him from escaping, but Sanji is kicking with abandon, uncaring of where he makes contact. Gin grabs him from behind, his arms skinnier but just as strong and Sanji flails, desperation fueling his body.

“Shit!”

An unforgiving hand grips his hair tightly and Sanji grunts when his head is pulled back. He tries to bite at the fingers that enter his mouth but it’s hard to close his jaw with the way Krieg is pulling his head. He feels something sandy and thick scrape his throat, and he instinctively swallows to dislodge the object. At the same moment, he feels his knee connect with soft flesh and Gin drops to the ground. The hand on his hair slackens in surprise and Sanji uses that to his advantage, bringing his head down to head-butt Krieg in the face. His head explodes in pain, but he hears something crunch and feels something give, and then he’s running again.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, he just knows that he has to get away. His feet are not working the way they should and he can hear the heavy footfalls of his pursuer, but he has adrenaline and desperation on his side. The music is faint, too fucking faint, and it sounds _above_ him, but he doesn’t care. He needs to run, he needs to get away.

He turns the corner and his heart stops when he his body slams against something hard. He hits the floor and pain floods his system. _Oh fuck_ , flashes through his mind, but then every thought is wiped clean as the pain increases. Why does it fucking hurt so much?

“Sanji?”

He doesn’t recognize the voice, but it doesn’t matter. The footfalls behind him stop and his whole body twists when Gin’s scent hits him. He tries to move, he tries to scramble away, but his blood is boiling and his heart is splitting, and it fucking feels like his brain is about to melt.

“Who the hell—?”

The words are cut off by the sound of a roar. The rumbling sound shakes the very ground and splits the ears, it’s deep and growling and so full of anger and power that Sanji’s whole body cowers and flinches. His ears flatten and his tail lowers, and suddenly everything is screaming at him to submit, to lower his body and bare his throat and hope he won’t get killed. He hears Gin hit the floor behind him, trapped in the same animal urge to submit, but he pays him no mind. It doesn’t even matter anymore. The pain is fucking unbearable and the dark spots dancing in his eyesight are getting bigger and bigger. His lungs are expanding inside his body, but he can’t breathe.

He’s going to die.

When Sanji wakes up to brightness, he panics. His whole body convulses and something starts beating rapidly. His panic alleviates somewhat when he realizes that he can move, he’s not sluggish at all, and he’s on a semi-comfortable bed. The beeping sound is still ringing loudly, but before he can make sense of where he is, the doors open and a pretty woman followed by a slightly familiar man step in.

“Mr. Black, calm down,” the man says calmly as the woman rushes forward and starts checking over him.

It takes him a moment to realize he’s facing a doctor and a nurse. He’s in a hospital. “W-what happened?” he asks, his voice rough, allowing the woman to lower him back on the bed. He can’t remember anything other than that horrible roar an every time he tries to think back on it, pain flares inside of him.

“You had a seizure,” the doctor says matter-of-factly. “How is he?” he asks the nurse.

“Slightly elevated hear-rate, but everything else is back to normal,” the nurse replies. “Brain activity is standard and blood levels are stable.”

“Good. You can leave us.”

The nurse nods and after offering Sanji a slight smile, leaves.

“Who are you?” Sanji asks, clearing his throat. He feels…surprisingly fine, considering everything that happened. He’s slightly sore and his throat hurts, but he can live with that. This is nothing compared to the bone-crushing pain that paralyzed him before. “How long have I’ve been here?”

“My name is Dr. Trafalgar,” the doctor replies. “But you can call me Law. Luffy brought you in three days ago.”

 _Three_ days ago? Fucking shit. And who the hell is Luffy? He doesn’t recognize the name at all. Is that the guy he bumped into in the hall? If so, he needs to thank him as soon as possible. He owns his life to that man. “When can I leave?” he asks, eager to go home. He hates hospitals, always have and probably always will. He squirms uncomfortably when he feels something strange inside of him, a deep aching sense of emptiness, like he’s missing something.

“Not yet,” Law replies. “Bond-breakage is a serious injury. You seem to be recuperating well, but I want to keep you in observation for another day. Mr. Roronoa has yet to wake up from his coma, and I’m worried you will crash, too.”

“Z-Zoro?” Sanji says, confused. He rubs his chest, trying to dislodge the uncomfortable feeling. It doesn’t hurt, but he doesn’t like it. “What does he—he’s in a fucking coma!?”

“Of course,” Law replies simply, raising an eyebrow. “The bond affects both parties.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sanji snaps, freaking out. Zoro is hurt? He’s in a coma? But…fuck, nothing is making any sense! Is this why he’s feeling like this? Is this strange hollowness a sense of foreboding? He needs to know that Zoro is okay.

“Mr. Black…you _are_ aware of what a bond-breakage is, right?” Law asks carefully, his black ears flicking in curiosity.

Sanji shakes his head, trying to clear his mind. “No, I…what is wrong with Zoro?” Sanji whispers, afraid.

Law studies him for a moment, then sighs. “Do you know how mating works?”

“Just answer my fucking question!”

“He’s bond-broken,” Law replies, rolling his eyes. “I’m trying to tell you what that _is_.”

“Oh,” Sanji says, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He really needs to calm down. Screaming at his doctor is not going to solve anything, and no matter how worried he is bout Zoro, freaking out is not going to solve anything. “Mating…that’s when you sleep with your mate, isn’t it?” he answers hesitantly. “Um, I…I’m sorry. I was raised by humans, so all I know is what the Internet has told me.”

Law sighs again and folds his legs. “There is sex, then there is mating—the two are very different, though not exclusive. Unlike humans, hybrids cannot reproduce as easily. There are many psychological and biological factors that affect our reproduction. All hybrids are born with the innate ability to recognize the person best fitted to reproduce with—your soulmate, if you believe classic romanticism. There are two stages to mating: the mating _bond_ , and the mating _act_. Usually, it is the predator who recognizes their perfect prey first and initiates the bond. It is actually quite fascinating—all that the predator has to do is _choose_ his prey and the bond initiates. It activates a biological change that makes it impossible for other predators to find this prey compatible. Once the bond has been strengthened by the sexual act, the bond is complete and it becomes unbreakable. Since the mating bond increases the reproduction of dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin—three of the most important hormones responsible for the feeling of ‘falling in love’—many people equate the mating bond to love at first sight.”

Sanji frowns, remembering Krieg’s words. “Don Krieg….the human that drugged me…he said I was bonded.”

“Yes. The bond between Mr. Roronoa and you was very old,” Law says easily. “It must have happened at quite the young age.”

Sanji’s mouth falls open. “W-what?” He’s bonded with Zoro? Holy fuck! So Zoro is what, he’s fucking _soulmate_? Is this why he’s never been able to forget the tiger? The heart monitor picks up his increased heart-rate, and he blushes when he realizes that Law can hear how excited he is. But he finds himself not caring. _Zoro_ is his fucking _soulmate_! They’re meant to be in love! Fucking Mother Nature created them with the sole purpose of being together. The romantic inside of him cheers in happiness.

“Are you feeling well?” Law asks worriedly, glancing at the heart monitor.

“I’m fine,” Sanji hurriedly says. “So…so this means Zoro and I…we’re meant to be?” he asks, trying to hide the eagerness in his voice. The ache in his heart throbs, but the feeling is bearable. He’s probably just worried about Zoro—his _soulmate_.

“Well, not anymore,” Law chuckles. “This is why we’re here, after all.”

 _Oh._ Something falters inside of him, and he’s almost afraid to ask the next question, but does so anyway. “What do you mean?” Sanji asks, fearing the worst.

“The man who tried to kidnap you, Don Krieg, is a well-known hybrid trafficker. He sells exotic breeds to humans oversees, where hybrid slavery is still legal. Authorities have spent a lot of time searching for him. He was arrested shortly after you escaped, thank goodness, but he did manage to feed you a drug called RH-98—it is an illegal substance than contains heavy amounts of cortisol, amongst other man-made hormones. To put it in simple terms, this drug is a virus that destroys the hormones in your body that create the mating bond. It changes your biological structure, something that is very dangerous and often leads to death. In fact, 97% of hybrids infected with this virus die. Once your body started to destroy the mating bond, Mr. Roronoa’s body started to copy the process—truly, it is fascinating, don’t you think? Zoro wasn’t fed the drug, nor was he near you when you were infected, yet his body automatically knew that the bond in your body was being destroyed and acted correspondingly. It is but one of the many mysteries of hybrid anatomy that we might never understand.”

Sanji ignores him, too stunned by the previous words spoken. He remembers Krieg slipping him something when he tried to escape. That must have been the pill, RH-whatever. The pain he felt in the hall…that was probably his body destroying the bond. The roar he heard…that had been Zoro. He stares at his hands blankly, trying to wrap his head around all of this. “So this means…we’re no longer bonded?” Is that what he’s feeling? Is this emptiness in him the space where his bond used to be? He feels carved out, useless and otiose.

“That’s right,” Law nods, unware of the way Sanji’s heart is breaking. “You shouldn’t worry too much about Zoro. The fact that you woke up bodes very good news for him. He should be regaining consciousness in the next couple of hours. So it’s good news all around.”

“How can…how can this be good news?” Sanji whispers, horrified. “You just basically told me I lost my fucking _soulmate_!”

“You…you really don’t know anything about hybrids, do you?” Law snorts, and his clear amusement sparks a flare of anger inside Sanji. _How fucking dare he?_ “Weren’t you listening when I explained the mating bond?”

“Yes! And despite your fucking cynicism, I happened to think true love fucking exists, alright!?” Sanji shouts. “Call me a fucking romantic or whatever, but I don’t give a fuck about the science of things.”

Law makes a confused face. “You…you actually _felt_ the bond?”

“You just fucking said—!”

“Yeah, but you’re a _fox_ ,” Law interrupts, shutting him up. “Look, there are different levels of strength in these bonds,” he explains, waving a hand in the air as if to show how unimportant he finds all of it. “With over seven billion people in the world, the instinct to breed isn’t so strong anymore. But it is still there. Obviously, reproduction only happens between heterosexual couples. The mating bond between heterosexual predator and prey will always be the strongest, simply because they have a bigger chance of producing offspring. A heterosexual coupling between two predators or two prey does not have the same chance at offspring, with only 40% of couples successfully reproducing, but it is still not unusual to see.

“And with the increase in population, it isn’t unusual to find homosexual couples. In fact, three out of five hybrids don’t care about the gender of their mates. But a _bonded_ homosexual couple between two predators…that has absolutely no value in the face of science. There is _zero_ chance of reproduction, so their bond will always be the weakest—in fact, the only reason why you survived the RH-98 virus is _because_ you were bonded to a male predator. A bond like yours…its _literally_ one in a million.”

Sanji bites his lip stubbornly. “So what?” he hisses. “That still means there are over seven thousand people just like us. Why does it matter? The earth is overpopulated anyway.”

“Yes, Sanji…but your race is almost extinct,” Law says, using his first name for the first time, and Sanji freezes at the reminder. “Since the last world census there were less than two hundred tiger hybrids in the world and less than _seventy-five_ fox hybrids. Your species is dying out…the mere fact that you two bonded each other is astounding…a glitch in the system. It was a mistake. It may sound harsh, but the two of you are lucky that the bond was broken.”

Sanji doesn’t know what to say. Law is _right_. There is no reason why he and Zoro should be together. But…but if it is so wrong, then why did they bond in the first place? Why does he feel like a piece of himself was ripped out? Why does it hurt so much?

“You said that the predator initiates the bond…but if both Zoro and I are predators, then who initiated it?” Sanji asks quietly.

“The one who saw the other first,” Law shrugs. “Whoever initiate it was probably too young to understand what was happening.”

“I was nine,” Sanji murmurs, remembering the day at the aquarium when he first saw Zoro.

“Ah. Zoro probably realized what was going on when he went into rut,” Law says thoughtfully. “His father most likely explained everything to him. You know, you’re very lucky he knew better than to mate with you. A bond is unbreakable once you engage in sexual intercourse.”

Zoro already knew. Of course. Sanji remembers Zoro telling him he went into rut that day at the basketball court. His father must have told him what it meant. But if he knew…then that means he kept away from Sanji _on purpose_. It means he always felt the same way Sanji does, but he _chose_ to keep away. Suddenly, a lot of things make sense.

Zoro rushing out of the elevator. Zoro insulting him in the roof. Zoro ignoring him before.  
Zoro didn’t want this bond. He was probably appalled when he discovered that Sanji had bonded with him. He probably hates Sanji for forcing himself on him. Shit…Zoro has a girlfriend. A feline hybrid, someone he could have bonded with if Sanji hadn’t made the stupid mistake of bonding him when they were nine. And why shouldn’t he hate Sanji? They are both a dying race, Zoro probably wants children. Sanji _should_ want children, too. There are less of his kind than Zoro’s. Zoro will be overjoy when he wakes up and no longer feels Sanji’s bond inside of him. It won’t feel like an open wound to him.

“Once the bond is broken, can we bond again?” Sanji asks quietly.

“Well...most prey die when the bond is broken, but all the facts lead to yes,” Law answers, frowning. “Most likely, the body will simply try to find the next best compatible partner.”

That’s good. That means Zoro will be able to bond with his girlfriend. Law said predator couples don’t have a great chance at reproduction, but anything is better than zero chance.

“Sanji…you don’t feel the bond anymore, do you?” Law asks and for the first time, Sanji can feel concern in his voice.

Ah, of course. The virus destroyed the mating bond between him and Zoro so he’s not supposed to care anymore. If the reason he loved Zoro was because of this stupid bond, now that is broken, Sanji shouldn’t be in love anymore. Then why can’t he stop thinking about the tiger? Why is it so painful to think that Zoro doesn't care about him? Why does it feel like there’s a vicious grip around his heart that won’t let it beat?

He’s a glitch in the system. He’s a freak of nature. There must be something wrong with him.

“No…I don’t feel anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of crammed a lot of information in there, so sorry about that. I twisted science up a bit to suit my shipping heart, so if you're a scientist and find this blatant disregard of logic insulting, my apologies.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, without miscommunication or martyrs, things get solved pretty quickly

Zoro wakes up gasping for air. His throat is sore and his brain muddy, but his entire body is shaking with adrenaline and danger—there is something wrong.

“Whoa, Zoro! Calm down!”

Zoro immediately locks eyes with Luffy, but he doesn’t calm down. All he can remember is pain—holy shit, the pain was excruciating, like someone had dug a blade into his chest and carved out his heart. He’s never experienced pain that debilitating before, not even when his father cut him down that first time.

“Where’s Sanji?”

He remembers seeing the blonde disappear into the back rooms with Gin, remembers the acrid scent of his mate in pain, his fear—that’s when the pain came. He touches his chest and blinks rapidly, trying to understand what’s going on around him. His chest still hurts, it feels like an open wound, like he’s missing an arm or something.

“Zoro, you have to calm down!” Nami exclaims, but Zoro ignores her.

He needs to see Sanji, he needs to find his mate. He needs to know he’s okay—and fuck, _what hurts so fucking much_? He needs to find Sanji. He needs…he needs him.

“Fuck!” he shouts suddenly, gasping when they pain in his chest twists and gnaws. “Where the fuck is Sanji!?”

“He went home.”

Zoro looks up and meets Law’s gaze. Zoro can smell nicotine and spice on the doctor, faint and fading, but it’s enough to soothe his senses and take in Law’s words. His heart rate lowers and the pain aches, but he finally lets Luffy push him back on the bed.

“He’s…okay?”

“He’s completely fine, Zoro,” Law reassures him. “He woke up three days ago. I explained everything to him and released him yesterday. I’m more worried about you; how are you feeling?”

“It hurts,” Zoro mutters, his brain still mostly focused on the news about Sanji. “My chest…it feels...wrong.”

Law frowns and jots down something on his clipboard. “Wrong? Must be a side effect.”

“What’s wrong with me?” Zoro asks—and then Law’s words sink in and he realizes that in order to be released, it means that Sanji had had to be in the hospital at one point. “What’s wrong with Sanji?”

“Zoro…don’t you remember?” Nami whispers, looking at him with something akin with pity in her eyes. But that’s ridiculous—Nami doesn’t do pity.

“I remember that fucking Gin,” Zoro growls and Nami flinches, her ears lowering in submission. “I remember looking for Sanji. I remember his fear. I remember…pain. So much pain…” his voice fades off and he winces when a particular sharp stab of pain sends pinpricks down his legs. Fuck, what is _that_? “What happened?”

“Zoro,” Nami sniffles and covers her mouth. “You’re…you’re bond-broken.”

Zoro stares at her, mouth open. Bond-broken? No…no, that can’t be. How can be bond-broken when his entire body is screaming at him to find Sanji? How can he be bond-broken when just the hint of his scent on Law is soothing his every ache and pain?

“That’s not…that can’t be,” Zoro says. “Nami, don’t be fucking kidding.”

“She’s not joking, Roronoa,” Law cuts in, looking oddly somber. “Sanji was fed RH-98. He didn’t understand what was going on—he was raised by humans, so he didn’t even know he was mated to you, but…he doesn’t feel anything anymore.”

No…no, that’s not…that’s not true. Zoro can _feel_ it…is that what this hollow pain inside of him is? Is this his body craving Sanji? It fucking _hurts_. “But I…I _want_ him,” Zoro mutters. “That’s not…”

“Of course you do,” Luffy suddenly pipes in, startling all three hybrids. “You still like Sanji, right?”

“I…”

Of course. Fuck, of course! He _likes_ Sanji! Holy shit…this is….this is the best fucking news ever! This was the only thing holding him back! His father was so right—he’s human before he’s beast and he’s fucking _in love_ with Sanji! Who fucking cares about a bond? Who cares if there is no primal urge inside of him to mount the other predator? Who. Fucking. _Cares?_ Zoro was never one to believe in faith and he certainly never liked the thought of letting biology rule his live. But now…now he knows that the craving inside of him, the utter and devastating need to see Sanji, isn’t coming from some ancient animalistic urge. This is all him. This is how he feels.

This is how _Zoro_ feels.

“I need to find him,” Zoro suddenly says, getting back on his feet. “I need to…to talk to him…to _explain_ —.”

“Zoro, he doesn’t feel anything!” Law snaps. “The bond is broken!”

“I don’t fucking care!” Zoro growls. “Now, _move!_ ”

He doesn’t like using his voice to intimidate others, but he can’t deny that is helpful when Nami and Law immediately look down, ears lowered, and tails tucked. Zoro only has half a second to feel bad before he’s rushing out of the room. He feels tired and winded, the pain in his chest a constant stab, but he ignores it as his body thrums with the need to get to Sanji.

Law’s words are still stuck with him, even if Zoro chose to ignore them. There’s a chance that Sanji might not feel anything for him anymore, that he won’t care for Zoro now that the bond is broken. But Zoro is willing to look past that—they _were_ bonded, after all, so that must mean they’re compatible in some base level, right?

There is no way that it was biology that made Sanji such a perfect fit, though. Because it wasn’t the bond that made Sanji such a great cook, nor was it the bond that made him fight like a demon out of hell. And it isn’t the bond that is driving him forward right now, leading back to the university despite his usual lack of direction.

And once he enters the dorms, he smells him.

Smoke and spices…and _hurt_. Zoro whines low in his throat and his ears flatten as he stalks forward. The few people he encounters quickly move out of the way—even the humans who smell and hear nothing—and Zoro doesn’t even care that he’s acting more animal than he has in years.

He stops in front of his door and listens. Sanji is inside, he’s…pacing? He’s walking back and forth, quickly and lightly. Zoro can barely hear his steps. He can hear the swish of his tail, though. He can smell a fresh cigarette.

The pain in his chest dulls somewhat.

“Come in, Zoro.”

Zoro lets out a shuddering breath at the sound of Sanji’s voice. God, if it weren’t for the now-dulled pain in his chest, Zoro would never think he’s not bonded to Sanji anymore.

He opens the door and steps through to the kitchen, his eyes immediately landing on Sanji. Not pacing, cooking. He’s moving back and forth from the stove, to the counter, to the fridge. He doesn’t look at Zoro, but he can tell Sanji is aware of him. His ears are pointing away from Zoro, his tail curled tightly around his back.

“I’m glad to see you’re awake,” Sanji says, his voice normal. Zoro can’t detect anything strange, nor can he smell anything off, but he knows there’s _something_ wrong.

“Thank you.”

“I’m surprised you were released so early, though. And that you came here.”

“I wanted to see you.”

Sanji looks back at him sharply and there it is…his scent changes, get a bit more floral. “What for?”

“I wanted to see that you’re okay,” Zoro answers honestly.

Sanji smiles—there’s something off about it—and turns back to face the stove. “I’m fine. No need to worry about me.” _Anymore_. It’s not spoken, but Zoro can hear the words loudly.

“Sanji, I—.”

“I’m a big boy,” Sanji interrupts. “So I can handle myself. I got us into this mess, so I’ll deal with the consequences. Honestly, Zoro, you’re a good guy, but there’s no need for you to be here. So just…go celebrate with your girl. I promise things won’t get awkward with us.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Zoro growls and Sanji startles. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Sanji turns off the oven and glances at him, hesitancy in his movements. “It means…what it means, I don’t have a double meaning here, Zoro.”

“You’re talking as if this bond-breakage is your fault,” Zoro snaps. “And it’s not. This is Gin and that—.”

“I know that,” Sanji interrupts, rolling his eyes. “I meant the bond itself. I mean, I was pretty young and never really understood what I did, so I’m sorry about that—.”

“The bond isn’t your fault.” This time, Zoro cuts him off. “It wasn’t anyone's  _fault_.”

“Zoro, we were nine,” Sanji snaps, rolling his eyes. “That’s pretty young to decide your 'forever after', don’t you think?”

“We were _seven_ ,” Zoro corrects. “And excuse me for not being able to control who I bond with.”

Sanji frowns, staring at him. “No…we were nine,” he insists. “I saw you…at the aquarium. You were with that human girl and I just—.” He stops suddenly, blushing and averting his gaze.

“We were seven,” Zoro repeats softly. “At the restaurant, for my younger sister’s birthday. You came out of the kitchen, the human man picked you up, and then I didn’t see you again until Kuina’s birthday.”

Sanji gapes at him, eyes wide. “So…you were…? But, you never said anything,” he whispers.

Zoro winces, then scowls. “I…I didn’t know until that day at the basketball court. Tigers only rut when they have mates, and since that was my first time meeting you…uh, I kind of wanted to jump you. So it wasn’t aggression, but _heat_ and…I didn’t tell you because I thought you were scared of me.”

“Scared of you?” Sanji exclaims, frowning. “Why the fuck would you think that!?”

“Remember what I told you before? About how you look scared without _smelling_ scared?” Zoro reminds him. “You hid when you saw me at your apartment door, you backed away from me in the elevator.”

“I didn’t _hide_ ,” Sanji denies, blushing. “I was just…trying to figure out what to say to you! And I was backing away from you because I was in fucking rut and seconds away from asking you to—.” Again, Sanji cuts himself off with a blush and scowl. “Well, it doesn’t even fucking matter anymore,” Sanji mutters. “We’re not bonded, there’s no pull. Why don’t you go off and…just leave me alone.”

Zoro scoffs and runs a hand through his hair. “Do you really not feel anything anymore?” he asks, hurt.

“Do you?” Sanji retorts, mocking.

“Yes.”

Sanji stares at him, shocked. Zoro doesn’t really know what else to say: he wants to be with Sanji, but if Sanji doesn’t want to be with him, then there’s nothing he can do.

“W-what about your girlfriend?”

Zoro frowns. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The cat,” Sanji snaps. “The girl that kissed you—you stank of her the other day.”

“You mean _Nami_?” Zoro asks, incredulous. “She’s not my girlfriend! She’s just a friend—we hang out, so yeah I’m gonna smell like her!”

“So you…Law said we weren’t supposed to feel anything anymore,” Sanji whispers. “But I…it _aches.”_

That’s all Zoro needs to know. He bridges the few steps between them and wraps his arms around the fox, sighing when his scent instantly calms him down. Sanji’s tail wraps around his, and Zoro rubs his nose against Sanji’s ear—they twitch and he gets the urge to sneeze, but it quickly goes away.

“I don’t care about the bond,” Zoro says honestly. “I don’t believe in faith or soulmates or anything like that. I just know that I like you and I want to be with you—even now, with no primal urge egging me on, I want to be with you.”

Sanji pushes him, but instead of putting distance between them like Zoro fears, he just drags Zoro’s face down to meet his, pressing his lips against Zoro’s.

How can anybody say that the mate-bond is the strongest feeling in the world when even bond-broken, kissing Sanji feels like coming home? His lips fit against Zoro’s perfectly, like they were meant to be slotted together, and the taste of his mouth is his scent concentrated—so strong and so delicious that Zoro can only deepen the kiss and plead for more.

When Sanji pulls back, his touch lingers and Zoro has to take a moment to come back to himself.

“You know, we’re not meant to be,” Sanji whispers.

“When have we ever done as we’re told?” Zoro retorts and Sanji grins.

“You do have a point.”

Despite the dull ache in their chests, Zoro and Sanji kiss again. And again. And when they move to Zoro’s bedroom, neither one is in the state of mind to pay attention to how the pain fades.

They don’t care that there’s no bond, they don’t care that they’re not mates.

And even when December comes and Zoro goes into rut one day after Sanji, they still don’t care.


End file.
